Science and Magic
by MrsRJLupin
Summary: Cecilia Frobisher is a muggle who has been employed by Dumbledore to work on a potion for Harry to defeat Voldermort. What happens when she is forced to work with Snape? 22/1/11:I'm considering a third and final sequel, would love to know your thoughts!
1. Cecilia Frobisher

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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Cecilia Frobisher looked up at the row of terraced Georgian mansions that lined the street. It was growing darker, being just before 10.30pm, and the breeze was rustling the leaves on the sycamore trees that lined the street.

"6, 8, 10…", she counted, as she scanned the house numbers along the row. "..14…". Hang on, where's 12? She briefly scanned back to where 12 would, _should_ have been. She dug back in her bag for her appointment letter, and read the paragraph that detailed the address. She read, "Please arrive at 12 Grimmauld Place, London, on 15th July, at 10.30pm".

Well, here she was, this street was Grimmauld Place. And it was 10.30 now. She turned back, still holding the letter. "If this is Nick Smith, playing a practical joke on me I will kill him", though Cecilia, in frustration. She scanned the numbers and this time, in an old-fashioned script read, "Number Twelve". Blinking in the failing evening light, she approached the steps. "That's funny", she thought, "must have been a trick of the light". She hauled her bag onto her shoulder and said, "Well, here we are then", and rang the bell.

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Cecilia had seen the advertisement for a research scientist in the back of a periodical in the local library. "Exciting New Prospects!", read the ad, "Work as Part of A Team with Rewarding Results. Help Towards Saving the World!", had caught her eye. The advert did not go into details, but she cut it out anyway. The job would be in London. Maybe it was what she needed after her last disastrous career move…and after Tim.

She phoned Libby that afternoon. "Cec, you have not got to keep blaming yourself. Your job went pear-shaped after you lost your husband".

"Which was my fault", sighed Cecilia.

"He DIED, chickie, it was not your fault. You had separated, gone your own different ways."

"I know, it all sounds logical, but when I sit down and think, I'll be moving to London with this job, I'll be selling the house, OUR house."

"You sound like you are giving up, heavens above Cec, how long have I known you for? You're twenty eight, you still have a life to lead!"

"I feel old, Libs, I feel like there's nothing left for me".

Libby sighed. She had been there for Cecilia when she and Timothy separated. That had been two years ago, but she doubted her friend had ever stopped loving him. His death had been a blow to her, and her work had gone down hill. The school where Cecilia taught had given her sick leave, but she had never gone back.

"Well, you know what I think, and deep down Cec, I think you know too."

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The door opened. A man, taller than herself and an expression of stone looked at her.

"Yeees?"

"Hello, I'm Cecilia Frobisher. I am here to meet – " but she was cut off mid-sentence.

"Yes dear, come in, come in! Mr., er, White is expecting you. Let me take your bag, dear." She shouldered past the tall man and ushered her inside.

"Oh how impolite of me, Cecilia, do you mind me calling you that? I am Mrs Weasley –"

"Before we get into that", intoned the man who had answered the door, "Perhaps _I _should escort Mrs Frobisher? Mr. White will want to talk to her immediately."

"Yes, of course, Severus", said the woman who had introduced herself as Mrs Weasley. The door was closed behind her and she followed them into the house. It seemed a cold place, quite colourless and dim. The man whom Mrs Weasley had addressed as Severus led her quickly across the room to a room underneath the stairs, where a bright light shone through the frosted window. "Mr. White" was stencilled on the door. The man called Severus knocked.

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She had met Mr. White before, at the interview. It had been curious to say the least, as she had been told to bring nothing with her, no references, certificates of any kind, nothing.

The interview had been held at an office building, and had consisted of simply confirming what she had said in her letter. Thinking back there had been many odd things about the interview.

"I understand your husband is dead", Mr White had said. "Pneumonia, last November"

"That's right, but how did you – " began Cecilia

"There are many things that cannot be explained by science, " said Mr White, smoothing down the lapel on his pinstripe suit. It did not go with the blue and purple polkadot tie. "But sometimes one has to find the direction to use a gift. One should not dismiss that it was never there".

He was quite right, she had begun to doubt that she had been wasting her time all these years. Except for teaching science she had not made a successful career in it, and she was now even doubting her talents as a teacher.

"Mr. White, what will this work involve?"

"You will be working with one of our own…researchers. We are attempting to make many…medicines that will help in times of war to counteract the effects of attacks on the civilians of Great Britain an indeed those of the world. With what you may help to develop, many lives will be saved".

There, he had her. Helping someone else was just what she needed to do to forget about her own troubles.

"But you don't know anything about me", Cecilia rose from her chair. "Don't get me wrong, but how do you know I will be the right person for the job?"

Mr White arched his fingers.

"If you accept this position Mrs Frobisher, you may leave it at any time. If you accept, I will send you confirmation of your appointment to your home address and we will meet further discuss what we wish you to do."

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The whispering got louder, as they approached the door.

"Ah, Severus, I see you have brought our newest employee to see me." Mr. White was smiling at her, but what struck her first was the clothes . He seemed to be dressed in a long robe. And a pointy cap. He _certainly_ didn't have a beard at the interview.

"Yes Professor, although if it had been up to Molly Weasley, she would have been made tea and fussed over first"

"Professor?" thought Cecilia, now totally confused.

"Dear Molly", he sighed. "Now, Mrs Frobisher, or may I call you Cecilia?" The professor stepped back into the room, gesturing to a chair

"Yes, of course", replied Cecilia, sitting. It was then occurred to her that she may not entirely be sure what she had let herself in for.

"I think there are few things I need to explain before we continue. You may remember at interview I said that for you to agree to the work was enough? That is because you have accepted work in the Wizarding community".

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	2. The Assignment

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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"I am sorry, Mrs Frobisher" continued the Professor, "I have not been entirely honest with you. As of this morning I am sure, you believed that anything magical and supernatural to be myth, legend, fable…..?" She nodded, unsure where this was going. The Professor closed the door of the small office and started to pace towards the high bookshelves, at the far end of the room.

"I am about to be frank about ourselves, that is to say, the Wizarding community and ourselves here a Grimmauld Place. If there is any time you wish to leave, you may do so, we cannot stop you and I thank you for coming, but I would ask that you would listen to what I have to say. Please, ask anything you wish Cecilia, as I proceed.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am a wizard. You are at the headquarters of an Order which consists of wizards fighting to prevent the rise of evil magic. The magic of which I speak threatens all, not only wizards, but muggles, and may, if we cannot prevent it, engulf the whole world.

"Magic?" asked Cecilia, confused. "What do you mean, magic? There's no such th---". She was silenced as a row of books neatly removed themselves from the second from of the bookself, and replaced themselves one by one.

"I am sure you are having trouble absorbing this information", smiled Dumbledore, patting Cecilia on the shoulder, and continued.

"The power behind the evil magic is based on fear of muggles - non-magical people, people like yourself, Cecilia. We need to find other ways to fight, and we have to look at all fronts. Our community, our world, the magical world in which we live and conceal from muggles has been kept hidden for centuries, millennia. Our actions are passed down to you through legends and fairy tales, and because of this, a certain, shall we say, arrogance, has crept into thinking that muggles collectively do not possess the attributes that we prize in ourselves - courage, bravery, wit, intellect, for example. This is the root of the dark evil that has arisen. Do you understand me so far, Cecilia?

She nodded, waiting for Dumbledore to continue. He glanced at her, and paced back again, with his hands closed behind him.

"The dark magic that we are endeavouring to fight however, has its roots in what all wizards believed to greater or lesser extents, that we are better than muggles. We, including myself I hasten to add, believe because we can do magic, which performs tasks that muggles have to invent things for, that those things that you use, elliktricity, isn't it? Mekkaniks? Medicine? - are worthless to us."

"So if you don't need them, why do you need me?" Cecilia was having a hard time taking in all this.

"I have to admit to a certain amount of disregard to the ways of muggles, but it is not a mistake that I admit to lightly. When I realised what the potential of the knowledge and skill you as a people have I've done everything I can to introduce it to our practices, resulting in the reason you are sitting here. In short, we need the help of muggles if we are to overcome the dark evil which has arisen." Dumbledore sat down, facing her.

"So, what you are saying is that there are more like me? More muggles, that is?"

"We were given the names of people, muggles that is, who have the skills we need and who are not working. We have a few dozen - scientists? Yes, scientists working for us already, from many different branches - those that deal with engineering, elliktricity, mekkaniks…. We wish you to work however, from our headquarters, with another professor."

Magical people? Thought Cecilia, want me to work with them? Her head was spinning, this was……_not_ what she was expecting!

"I can understand this is a lot to take in, and you are welcome to think it over. We have arranged a room for you here, at the headquarters. Then you may have some time to get organised. "

"What is it precisely you want me to do?"

Just then, the door was tapped, and opened.

"Do you wish me to join you now, Professor?" It was the tall man, Severus, who had answered the door.

"Yes. Cecilia, this is Professor Severus Snape. He, like myself and many of the Order, work at Britain's Wizard School Hogwarts. Professor Snape teaches Potions at the school and it is with him I wish you to work and it is your skills both as a scientist and a teacher that you will need. You will be teaching Professor Snape what you know, and the knowledge he gains you will use together to develop new potions".

Cecilia rose from her chair and extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Professor Snape".

"And yourself, madam. You may call me Severus.", he said, extending his hand, though there was no warmth in the gesture.

"Fine, fine", smiled Dumbledore, brightly. "Severus, will you show Mrs Frobisher to the kitchen, I am sure Molly will have something made for supper".

"Cecilia", Dumbledore continued, "We will meet tomorrow for you to give us your final word on whether you will be working with us. Goodnight".

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	3. The Order

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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The chattering became louder as Severus Snape showed Cecilia to the kitchen.

"Mrs Frobisher!", smiled Mrs Weasley, taking her hand. "I expect you'll be wanting some supper, dear. Will sandwiches be OK?" She led Cecilia to a chair, whilst she continued. Cecilia looked around her: a flat-bladed knife was buttering a huge pile of bread slices; the water was running from the tap and the lettuce was washing itself.

"These are some other members of the Order", Mrs Weasley gestured to the other side of the table, where three other wizards were sitting. The chattering stopped, and they stared at her.

Mrs Weasley glanced back towards Cecilia. "This must be strange to you. It's hard enough when muggle-born children are sent their letters for Hogwarts, but they have time to adapt. I'm Molly" she finished.

"Cecilia", said Cecilia. "What _is_ Hogwarts?"

"Britain's school for wizards and witches - to train them in magic. That's no doubt where you'll be working with Professor Snape. Bill, tell Mrs Frobisher about Hogwarts." Mrs Weasley, gestured to the table.

One of the wizards from the other side of the table stood up and moved to a chair next to Cecilia. "Bill", he said, sticking out a hand. His bright red hair was slicked to one side. "What mum forgot to mention is that Hogwarts is the best school of magic in the whole world. We learn about charms, potions, the history of magic - even muggle studies!" He laughed.

Cecilia frowned. Muggle studies? That didn't sound very flattering, more like a curiosity and she remembered what Dumbledore has said about the arrogance of wizards towards muggles.

"What did you learn at school, Mrs Frobisher?" said a pink-haired witch, from across the table. "I wanted to take a year out from Hogwarts to go to a muggle school and find out for myself, but my mum wouldn't have it."

"In muggle schools its maths and you learn about your history, and English, and you liked ellektricity, and potions, and mekkaniks, isn't that right?", interrupted Bill.

"Yes, but it is much more complicated than that", smiled Cecilia, determined to give as good as she got. We don't have magic to help us with everyday tasks, we have to learn how to do everything ourselves." There! "But sometimes it is just the joy of knowledge which is satisfying. That's how I feel about science".

"You sound like Hermione Granger!" a third wizard sitting next to the pink-haired witch said. He had light brown hair, and twinkly eyes. "I've never taught another student like her. She is intrinsically interested in everything she does, she does it for the love of the work itself, not just because she has to get through it". Bill and the pink-haired witch nodded in agreement.

"So you are a teacher as well?" asked Cecilia, as Mrs Weasley laid out salad and sandwiches on the table.

"I was a teacher, a Professor at Hogwarts, two years ago. My name's Lupin, Remus Lupin. And this is Tonks", he said, gesturing to the pink-haired witch. He gestured towards the table, as Mrs Weasley set down a pot of tea.

"Tea?" asked Mrs Weasley.

"That would be lovely" said Cecilia. Turning to Remus Lupin, she asked, "You don't work there any more, Mr Lupin?"

Lupin exchanged glances with Tonks, "Alas, no, not any more. I used to teach Defence against the Dark Arts, but Professor Dumbledore needed my...particular skills for the Order." Then he added, "Please call me Remus".

"I used to teach", said Cecilia, helping herself to a sandwich. "Science." They looked at her curiously. "Understanding the physical world around us. Using that knowledge to devise ways to improve our lives. Some people, muggles even in our world think science is some kind of magic. What's Defence against the Dark Arts?"

And so it continued. They chatted on into the night, eating sandwiches and exchanging pleasantries. Cecilia began to relax. In the context of coming to terms with magic and wizards, she set this to the back of her mind, and found she could talk easily with them. The fourth wizard at the table, she found out, was Dedalus Diggle, who worked for the Ministry of Magic.

She was shown upstairs, when she was beginning to be exhausted, by Remus. Mrs. Weasley had already sent her bags upstairs an she had been warned of a picture that would probably scream at her when she passed it and, right on cue as they waked past it, it yelled.

"I can see you, you wretched muggle! And you, consorting with muggles! Traitors, the lot of you in my house"

"Don't worry about that", said Remus, "It is the portrait of the present owner's mum, and we can't seem to remove it from the wall." He opened the door to her room and gestured inside. "Everything you need should be in here, the bathroom is down the hall."

"Thank you", smiled Cecilia, following him. It had been a long day.

"Is there anything else you need, Mrs. Frobisher?"

"Cecilia", said Cecilia "No I don't think so."

"Goodnight, then Cecilia", said Remus, smiling at her.

"Goodnight", said Cecilia, as he closed the door. Then she sat on the bed, and ran through everything that had happened that day. She doubted that she had ever had a stranger one. She wanted to stay awake and decide if this is what she wanted to do, but sleep overcame her so she got into bed, still fully clothed, and slept.

She didn't hear, an hour later the padding of paws outside the door.

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	4. Adjusting

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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A warm summer glow irradiated the room. It gently roused Cecilia from a peaceful slumber. The sunlight was warm on her face, and she pushed the covers off her.

Funny, she thought, why am I asleep in my clothes?

Then the events of the last evening hit her. She sat on the edge of the bed, considering all that had gone on.

Magic, a job, these people, this house…she mused. It seemed perfectly plausible that magic could exist. However this clashed with a great deal of common sense.

She glanced down at her watch. 6.30. Gosh, she hadn't even slept for five hours. She crossed the small room to her bag. It was on a chair; the only other furniture in the room being a dressing table and small wardrobe, apart from the bed.

A shower would be good, she thought, and decided to explore "down the corridor" where Remus Lupin had mentioned the bathroom was, with her towel and shampoo.

She found the bathroom and, making sure there was no-one around, locked the door. There was an old-fashioned iron bath in the room, with Victorian style taps, set lengthways across, so that it filled the room.

Oh well, a bath it is, she mused, wondering when the last time she had one. She started to run the water and added some shampoo to the water, to make do for bubblebath.

"There's some soap over there on the sink", said the woman in the picture, by the window, making Cecilia jump. Carefully, she removed the picture from its hook, and placed it face to the wall, ignoring the inevitable rebukes.

That's one thing I don't think I'll get used to, she thought, realising she must give her answer to Professor Dumbledore that morning. She turned off the bath tap, anticipating the satisfaction of being clean.

Once she was in, it felt delicious. She sank into it, and analysed the job proposal.

Pros, she thought, while she massaged her feet. She would be doing a job, and that was better than sitting round at home feeling sorry for herself. Any more pros, she wondered. Well, the people she met last night did seem very nice. And mum would have approved of the tea.

Wetting her hair in the water, and rubbing in the shampoo, she thought about the reasons not to take it. What on earth would she say to Libby? And her family, for that matter? She didn't know these people that well, who might do heaven knows what in their spare time! Magic, indeed!

As she rinsed the bubbles out of her hair, she chided herself. You have been made to feel welcome here, given a bed and food, yet you haven't even given them your answer. For all they know, you might just say "No thanks" and leave.

She drained the water from the bath and thought about Timothy. Darling Tim. Her husband. Libby was right, she knew. She herself, Cecilia Wells, still loved Timothy Frobisher, and probably always would.

If only we hadn't separated, she sighed, inwardly. Perhaps he might still be alive. Perhaps he wouldn't have had one of his mad ideas to climb Scafell Pike in the middle of winter on his own.

Just then, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Cecilia, is that you in there?" She recognised the voice as the pink-haired witch from last night, Tonks.

"Yes", replied Cecilia, as she proceeded to get dry.

"I checked your room, to see if you were all right, and you weren't there. Molly wondered whether you wanted eggs on toast for breakfast."

"That sounds lovely", said Cecilia, "I'll be down in a tick"

"Right-oh", said Tonks and walked away.

Cecilia considered her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. She had never been a beauty, there was possibly only one feature she liked about herself, apart from her ears, was her hair, mainly because she had so few bad hair days, though strawberry blonde was not a flattering colour.

Other than that, she had to admit that she quite plain. Even Libby had admonished her for turning into a dowdy old woman, and the weight she had gained. It was only about a stone, but it had not helped matters.

"You know", said her reflection, "Getting yourself off to Marks and Spencer for some new underwear would be a start."

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"What in heaven's name is Dumbledore playing at?" Cecilia heard a man's voice echoing downstairs.

Having discarded her interview clothes, she had found some suitable trousers and a plain blue jumper and was making her way downstairs.

She heard some other voices, too indistinct to make out what was being said. "All right", she heard, as she approached the kitchen. "Snape, working with Snape? I wouldn't trust a muggle-born witch or wizard within a hundred feet of him, not _least_ a muggle!"

She paused, listening intently.

A few more whispers, and a raised voice, a woman's voice this time. "……into the Order?", then she heard Molly Weasley, "I know this is your house, dear but really, did you not hear what Albus told us all? And from what we saw of her last night, she did seem rather bright….."

"For a muggle", she heard the first man finish. Of all the cheek!

"Keep your voice down, please", she heard Mrs Weasley whisper urgently. The volume of the conversation dropped again.

Then she heard someone walking out of the kitchen, and pressed herself back against the wall of the staircase. "Ow!" went one of the pictures. "Sorry", she whispered back absently, thinking about the conversation she had just overheard.

These people, wizards, really don't know anything about us, she smiled to herself, and at that moment, Tonks appeared at the kitchen door, her hair styled into a lime green bob.

"Cecilia! I thought I heard someone on the stairs. Come through, Molly has done a lovely breakfast." Tonks beckoned her towards the kitchen, where a smell of warm toast and tea emanated.

"Are poached eggs OK with you?" asked Mrs Weasley. "Take a seat, dear, did you sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you" she said politely. Then she jumped as she heard a "crack" sound, in the living room.

"What on earth was….", she began, only to see Dumbledore standing where the sound had come from, with smoke dispersing around him. She turned and looked questioningly at Tonks, who giggled.

He was dressed in a long red robe, and matching hat, quite – regal if Cecilia had to describe it. This is what a wizard should look like, she thought, and the full weight of the employment proposal eased itself onto her mind.

"Cup of tea, Albus?" asked Mrs Weasley.

"That would be lovely, Molly", he replied, and turned to address Cecilia.

"I trust you slept well, Cecilia. I'll just let you finish your breakfast, then we can discuss your working with us."

He took his tea out into the living room, and Tonks said, "Was it OK, the room I mean?"

"Yes, absolutely fine", said Cecilia, "but the picture in the bathroom didn't half give me a fright".

Tonks smiled. "I noticed you'd taken it down. Listen, I don't know how this must be for you, strange, I suppose." Cecilia glanced at the broom that was idly sweeping around Mrs Weasley and nodded.

"I know I shouldn't ask", she continued, sipping at her tea, "but have you made a decision whether you'll be working for Dumbledore?"

Cecilia smiled back at her, knowingly.

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"Have you considered the proposal I put to you last night?" Dumbledore had joined Cecilia in the kitchen after breakfast was finished. Tonks and Mrs Weasley had made themselves scarce.

"I have thought long and hard" replied Cecilia. She pressed on. "On the face of your proposal it seems ludicrous. All of this" – she gestured around the kitchen, "…logically shouldn't exist. It seems improbable."

"But?" asked Dumbledore, getting up from his chair and began to pace.

"It doesn't feel impossible, it feels like…". She paused and tried to describe what she felt. What she really felt was apprehensive, and that she should leave there and then. But that would be ignoring this faint whispering in her head telling her, insisting, that she would regret forever not finding out.

He stopped pacing as Cecilia looked firmly at him.

"I feel, professor, there is yet more science to uncover, when I was perhaps giving up hope of a purpose". She sighed, feeling quite unnerved at being so honest with someone she hardly knew but continued. "I liked teaching, Professor, more than you would probably know. After Timothy – my husband's death, it all went wrong, I didn't feel as if I could do this any more. It seems like I am being given an opportunity that would give me a purpose and it would be a mistake to leave, whatever my misgivings".

Dumbledore continued to look back at Cecilia, and she wondered whether she had spoken too frankly. He sat down.

"It is hard to bear the loss of a loved one, particularly when you blame yourself for the loss".

"But how did you - ?"

"What is the old proverb 'time heals all wounds'? In my experience, this is rarely true; the pain is just diluted over a longer period." He smiled, kindly, and their eyes met, in mutual acknowledgement.

Cecilia broke the silence. "What of the practicalities? I assume I can't tell anyone what type of work I will be undertaking. What about my family? My sister is living in my house, and I'll need to tell them something."

"I would ask you to keep the nature of this work to yourself, however there are safeguards in place so that should you ever disclose where you are and whom you are with to any non-magical people, the conversation will be forgotten. You will also forget everything connected with the Order".

"In that case, I will say I'm working for the patent office in London, and that I can't disclose my whereabouts, or what I'm doing".

Dumbledore nodded.

"Just one more question Professor, before I give you my answer, why did you choose me to work with you? I noticed that you didn't answer me last night"

"You are indeed bright", said Dumbledore, making Cecilia think about the conversation she had heard earlier.

"This dark magic which we are all fighting is known about by your Prime Minister. He has volunteered information about people who are not working currently in Britain. We chose to, shall we say, assess? muggles we thought were suitable, but with your teaching background and your lack of ties in the muggle community, you seemed a likely candidate. From your testimony only a moment ago, this appointment appears to be mutually beneficial". His eyes twinkled, but said no more. Cecilia exhaled, her final self-imposed obstacle removed.

"From what I understand, Mrs Frobisher, you are accepting the employment proposition I have put to you?"

"I think under the bizarre circumstances that I find myself in, Professor, I do"

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	5. Revelations

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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Dumbledore rose, and extended his hand, muggle-style.

"We have a deal then, Cecilia," he smiled.

"There is one favour I need to ask. I have to get things sorted out back in the real world, back home. Get some books, and equipment together, things we will need for experiments, see my family and let them know that I won't be able to see them for some time." Give me time to sort this all out in my head, she thought.

"I had already allowed time for you to do this, but only for two days. Will this be sufficient time?"

"Definitely", replied Cecilia, relieved at being able to see her family and giving herself some breathing space. She rose, and made to shake Dumbledore's hand.

"There is one other thing. I wish for Professor Snape to collect you in order to start work immediately afterwards. He will be discreet, I can assure you of that, and you will be in safe hands; as you yourself know, he is a member of the Order."

"Thank you, Professor" replied Cecilia, thinking about what she had overheard the owner of the house say about leaving her with Snape this morning.

"It is settled then" smiled, Dumbledore. They shook on it.

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Later that morning Mrs Weasley asked Cecilia to help her with some cleaning. She embarrassed herself by asking where the dusters and polish were, and followed Mrs Weasley to the first floor, serenaded by the portrait from hell screaming obscenities about muggles and mudbloods.

Molly explained to Cecilia that she was cleaning out three rooms for her children and two of their friends who would be coming on Sunday and staying for the summer.

"How many children do you have, Molly?" asked Cecilia curiously as she watched Mrs Weasley use her wand to eradicate the cobwebs.

"Arthur and I have seven", she replied, proudly, "Six boys and a girl. My eldest three, Bill, Charlie who you met yesterday, and Percy are all working now, there's just my twins and Ron and Ginny still at Hogwarts. I expect you'll meet them, soon. There", she said, scrutinising the room. "Can you grab the rugs, and roll them up for me?"

Cecilia complied, and almost choked as a swarm of, well they looked like bees with faces, encircled her.

"Urh, bumblenorks!" said Mrs, Weasley, casting another charm, "They won't harm you." She added, seeing the look of fright on Cecilia's face. "Do you have any family, dear?"

"There's just me at home", said Cecilia, as she moved to the other side of the room. "My sister Amy lives at home with mum, but she's going to live at my house while I'm here." she replied, remembering the "puttings-off" she and Tim had agreed to. Well, that she has argued about and he had given up challenging, at the end. Just one more year, when we have enough money; when I get my promotion; we should just wait till I'm a teacher because the maternity deal is much better….. She sighed inwardly, and turned to Mrs Weasley. "What next?"

It took them over an hour to clean all three rooms; the sight of Mrs Weasley casting charms and spells to eradicate, clean, scrub and tidy never waning in interest to her. Just then, they were finishing off the final room, Remus Lupin popped his head round the door.

"Having fun?" he chuckled, as Mrs Weasley finished off blitzing the curtains.

"Superb", replied Cecilia, grinning at him.

"I just wondered whether I could borrow Cecilia now, Molly if you've finished with her."

"Yes of course, Remus, I set some soup to do downstairs on timer, when Percy's head gets to the 12-position, it's done", replied Mrs Weasley, as Cecilia headed towards the door.

"I've got something for you", said Remus, as they headed back down the stairs to the living room. On the table was a large brown book with yellowing pages, which Cecilia could only describe in her mind as "Grimoire-ish". He sat down and Cecilia sat next to him.

He opened the cover, revealing an illustration of what looked to be a picture of children, skipping through a meadow, with some woods in the background, and the words "Mysterious Mythology".

"This used to belong to my parents", explained Remus, as she perused the cover. "They never looked at it much, only when my brother and I were young." He watched her reading the words that encircled the title page: "Energy, magic, light", running end-to-end around the illustration.

He flicked over a few pages, pausing briefly over an illustration of a basket containing balls, smiling slightly. Cecilia looked at the page Remus turned to next.

"My favourite was always Grimelda", he smiled, shuffling to the page. "She always looked so beautiful in her ball gown, I used to make my mum read it over and over, until I was asleep."

"These are like our fairy tales", said Cecilia, smiling as if remembering a long-forgotten time. "Have you heard of them? Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs? Rumplestiltskin? Jack and the Beanstalk?" She animated the beanstalk by extending her arm into the air. "There's nothing like a good fantasy story to make you feel fluffy and four again!"

She leaned further into the book to look at the picture, and a glimmer of an arrow, pointing the way to comprehension appeared in Cecilia's mind. She looked up at Remus. Perhaps wizards and muggles weren't so different after all.

"I'd like you to have it, to read", Remus said, exhaling briefly as her gesticulating hand came to rest on his.

"Oh no I couldn't possibly…"she began

"I insist. If nothing else, it may give you some background on the way wizards think of muggles, and other….things"

"A long term loan then? I really couldn't keep it". He placed the book carefully in her lap. She turned a few pages over from Grimelda, to the pages in the book that were separated by the book's ribbon marker.

"You know, I really think you're remarkable, if you don't mind me saying." continued Remus, as he sat back in the sofa. "I can't think of many muggles willing to adapt to such new ideas"

"How many muggles do you know?" asked Cecilia, examining an illustration that had caught her eye.

"Not many", he conceded, "Although many of the witches and wizards that attend Hogwarts were muggle-born. Their parents were not magical, and they were brought up in ordinary schools, just like muggle children. Some wizards though, they see muggle-borns as different. It is amazing how intolerant some of them, sometimes".

You're telling me, Cecilia thought, as she turned from the book. "You're not a wizard yourself?" she asked.

"Why do you say that?"

"You referred to the wizards as 'they', not 'us'".

"Slip of the tongue", he replied, hoping that his reply didn't sound too guarded.

"Anyway, there's nothing remarkable about me", she continued. "I know I've accepted employment here, but there's still a little part of me wondering what in heaven's name I'm doing, I mean, I don't even know _what _I'm doing, and Professor Snape, well! He doesn't exactly seem like the friendliest of people."

"Well to be honest, he does scare the living daylights out of the students", laughed Remus. "However Dumbledore trusts him"

"But you don't?" questioned, Cecilia. "I'm sorry", she said, when his expression turned sombre. "You don't have to answer that."

"Severus Snape is nothing if not dedicated to the subject of potions; I'm sure that you'll be able to form a satisfactory professional relationship." Remus turned to face her. "We were at school together; I'm not the best person to ask for a character reference though."

She looked at him for qualification, as Molly called "Lunch!"

Remus chuckled. "Let's just say we weren't the very best of friends".

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There were quite a few people in the kitchen, and Cecilia wondered how they were all going to fit round the table. She needn't have worried; the table seemed to have grown to accommodate them and, looked round, Cecilia recognised Tonks, and Bill from the night before.

"Can I give you a hand, Molly?" she asked.

"No thanks dear, it's nearly all done" replied Mrs Weasley, as the French stick cut itself into small chunks an proceeded to be buttered.

"Cecilia!" called Tonks, as Cecilia and Remus crossed the kitchen. "Bill and I were just saying how well you are taking it. We'd like you to meet some other members of the Order." She motioned to the group of wizards next to them.

"Sturgis Podmore", said a tall wizard. "I am sure I can speak for everyone when I say what a pleasure to meet you. So, you've come to help us out with Severus Snape's little problem?" Tonks giggled, hiding her face behind her hand.

"I'm going to be working with him, yes", replied Cecilia, smiling. "But I must say, I am not sure how we'll get on, he does seem very….".

"Forbidding!" finished the witch next to Bill, Bathsheba. They all laughed.

"Indeed", came a voice behind them. No-one had heard Snape enter the kitchen, and their smiles withered as he glanced at each of them. He then turned to Cecilia.

"Mrs Frobisher, after lunch I would be grateful if you would remain in the kitchen. Professor Dumbledore is eager we start to…get to know one another", he paused, analysing the stony faces of the others for any hint of amusement, then sat down on the far side of the table.

"You must have got on the right side of him", whispered a second wizard, who looked very much like Bill, but with long red hair and an earring.

"Why's that?"

"Because he didn't insult you!"

They chatted over lunch, and she found out that the long-haired wizard was in fact Mrs Weasley's second-eldest son, Charlie. The others, Bertie Griffin, Bathsheba Braddle and Benjamin Wergs all worked as Aurors for the Ministry of Magic.

"It's a bit like your pleez force", explained Benjamin, tapping his bowl with his wand for the third time, as it filled with Mrs Weasley's soup. "We prevent the misuse of magic, as directed by our magical decrees."

"So if your ministry employs you as the police", said Cecilia, "why do you need the Order?"

There was a pause. Everyone stopped what they were doing and exchanged glances. Snape looked over at Benjamin.

"Dumbledore explained to you the nature of your work, Cecilia?" Remus questioned, breaking the silence.

"Wizards exist in our world, the magical world that is, whose actions and deeds are done purely in the pursuit of power.". He looked at Snape and continued. "To get the power that they seek, the dominance, and tyranny over people they have carried out many terrible acts, not only towards wizards, but also to non-magical people, muggles. So great is the power the worst dark wizard alive today has amassed, it is beyond the control of Aurors in their official capacity to prevent it."

"That's if the ministry would actually get its head out of its own backside and realise what was going on", interrupted Charlie cynically. Mrs Weasley gave him a Look.

"Hence the formation of the Order of the Phoenix", continued Benjamin. "Combined forces. A gestalt entity".

"Eh?" said Tonks, mopping up the last of her soup with some bread.

"The net result when we all work together in the Order", explained Bertie, "is greater than the results if we acted individually".

"Oh, "she replied. "Nothing important, then".

88888888


	6. Getting to Know You

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

The rest of the meal was eaten mostly in silence and people drifted out of the kitchen in ones and twos afterwards, until Cecilia and Snape were the last ones left at the table. The silence continued while Mrs Weasley started to clear up. Cecilia got up to help her.

"I am sure Molly will not object when I ask that we go somewhere more private", said Snape. "It is vital we commence working today".

"Not at all, Severus," replied Mrs Weasley, smiling at Cecilia as she disapparated the crockery, only for them to appear clean in the glass kitchen cupboards.

"Shall we?" he said, rising from his chair. Cecilia got up too, and followed him out of the kitchen to where the office from last night, under the stairs had been, walking past Remus, Tonks, Bill and the other wizards from lunch who were sitting in the Grimmauld Place living room. Tonks followed their wake, and winked at Cecilia.

The office from last night was still actually there, but now it took on a different form: it was far larger than before and in place of the frosted glass door with "Mr White's Office" stencilled on there was a large panelled oak door. He opened it and led the way. The inside was also changed. There were no high bookshelves now; the wall now only contained a chimney and fireplace. In place of the armchairs where Cecilia and Dumbledore had sat last night were two large leather settees facing one another with a high coffee table between them. The coffee table had a small vase of blue irises on it. The walls too were changed; they were a deep burgundy colour, instead of the stripy gold wallpaper they had been.

Snape sat down on the furthest settee. Cecilia sat down opposite to him, considering how strange he looked sitting there. His appearance, she had noticed last night was very standoffish; his appearance with long unkempt hair and protruding hooked nose didn't help matters. Coupled with his body language, or lack of it, and general steeliness of his voice when he spoke, he certainly wasn't a people person.

"I understand", said Snape, looking at the flowers as he spoke, "that you have agreed for me to collect you from your house when you are ready. Professor Dumbledore did not leave me with your address, would you kindly oblige?"

"Of course, Professor" replied Cecilia, "I'll just grab some paper from my bag". She made to stand.

"No need", he replied, handing her a notebook page, and a pen. "Here you are. And, seeing as we are going to work together, I think we can dispense with "Professor." The corners of his thin mouth flicked up, briefly. "Call me Severus".

As she wrote on the page, Cecilia was surprised to see the writing disappear as quickly as she was forming the letters with the pen.

"Security", he stated simply. "I am sure even someone like you understands the implications of what Remus Lupin said earlier." He folded the paper and put it back inside his robe.

Someone like me? she thought.

"What do you mean?"

"I simply mean that, as you are not familiar with the danger that could befall you if it were discovered that we were…communicating with muggles. We feel the risk to both yourself and the Order is too great." He swallowed before continuing.

"Professor Dumbledore," he paused again, eyeing Cecilia. "…that is to say Professor Dumbledore and I…we feel that in order for us to succeed in our research, we need to get to now one another on a more personal level." He swallowed and looked down. "That is, so we can find the most effective way of working together."

Ah, thought Cecilia, feeling a small amount of sympathy, that's what's making him so nervous.

"Where do you propose we start?" she asked, and chuckled to herself. "How much do you actually already know about me?"

"Very little," said Snape. "All I was actually told about you was that we would be having another muggle come to work for us." More silence.

This really isn't going to work unless I intervene here, thought Cecilia. He's so closed, no amount of small talk is going to make him open up. Did she dare propose what she was considering? He would probably dismiss it as idiocy anyway, so there was nothing to lose.

"What precisely do you know about me?" he enquired, the question loaded, tinged with bitterness.

"I know practically nothing about you, Severus. For your information, I pay no attention to hearsay." she added, checking that the message had got through. Success! She changed tack.

"How much do you know about science? The science that we do?"

"Only very recently has Muggle Studies become a subject in its own right in which students can take an examination. When we were at school, we had a few lessons about them in our first year. About you", he quickly clarified. "I have taken the trouble to look at what you use science for".

"But do you know anything say, about forces? Atomic theory? Reaction rates?"

"Yes, of course", he snapped forcefully, glaring at her. Gosh, it's no wonder he scares the children he teaches!

Cecilia sighed. This was worse than talking to moody year 10s on a Friday afternoon. At least their lack of insight was because they plain and simple had hormones and they couldn't be bothered. Well, I can't believe I'm going to have to play the "build up your ego" card, thought Cecilia to herself, but we won't get anywhere if I don't.

"Probably, " she began, "you're thinking that you need to go over your magic. And I expect that what you want to ask me, but are not sure how" she chuckled a bit, as if she had just guessed his little joke, "because I don't know anything about magic and potions. You're right, of course, I don't know anything."

She continued. "And what I think Professor Dumbledore has in mind for us is that we go over some really difficult science, just for my benefit then I can compare both the science and the really simple magic that you'll be teaching me. I do thank you for your patience in giving me the chance to catch up"

He continued to glare at her. Eventually he spoke.

"I do feel it's fair to warn you that despite what you may have heard, I am entirely open-minded about what you have to teach me".

Cecilia thought back to Bathsheba Braddle's comment, but she had noticed him brighten a little, if dull grey could be described as brighter than storm grey. He wasn't still giving anything away.

"You are a risk, Mrs Frobisher", Snape continued. "When I heard that you had been interviewed and had accepted, I assumed it would be in the same vein as the other muggles employed by the Order. Frankly," he said, sitting back down on the settee, "I thought Dumbledore was out of his mind to actually bring one here."

I am going to ignore the last bit of his comment; he's really trying to divert this. Right, one last try, or this really is it. That's practically every manoeuvre I know, and he still won't open up.

Here goes, do or die…..

"I think the best way we can find out about one another is to play a game together. It's a silly muggle game, but it's quite easy to play." She sat back, waiting for his response. He still for a moment, then replied, "Continue".

"What we need is a dice, and some paper. We each write down six things about ourselves, then on the back of the paper write questions that we would like to ask the other. One of us shakes the dice first, and whichever number comes up, we ask the other person that numbered question from our paper. The other person then has to answer that numbered thing on the paper as the answer. The answer is totally stupid, of course, and we say what our actual answer to the question would be, and the question that goes with the answer." She paused. "What do you think?"

Snape continued to stare back at her, looking at her bright eyes. He rose, and walked over to the fireplace, his back to Cecilia.

"I do not usually engage in…" he began. He turned, and she was sure she detected uncertainty in his voice. "I'm not…"

Cecilia got up, and walked over to him, concern on her face. "We don't have to I just thought it would be, well, fun?" Just as she was about to put her hand on his arm he turned, his expression unfathomable. She quickly withdrew it, hoping he hadn't noticed

Snape rose, and folded his arms then, looking her in the eye, he turned to the coffee table and quickly replaced the roses with some paper and pens. A pot of tea appeared next to the paper, and with another flick of his wrist, steam emanated through the spout. Two cups and saucers appeared next to the teapot.

"Would you like some tea, Mrs Frobisher?" he said, sitting back where he had sat before.

"Yes, that would be lovely", she said, sitting opposite him again. "And, seeing as we're getting to now one another, perhaps you'd like to be brave and call me Cecilia?"

He exhaled, as he poured the tea into the cups, then looked up at her.

"Cecilia, milk and sugar?" He gestured across the table with his hand and a milk jug and sugar bowl appeared.

Victory, she thought. All it takes is some good honest female cunning.

"Neither" she replied. "But some biscuits would be nice"

He presented the black tea to Cecilia and a plate of biscuits appeared next to her.

"When is it you are leaving?"

"Well, I was considering this evening so I could catch the train up to Birmingham, then the local train home. I am hoping to get everything done tomorrow, and then you could meet me on Friday."

"Friday, it is", he confirmed, picking up the paper and pen. "Shall we begin?"

Ten minutes later, Cecilia had finished. She'd noticed while she was thinking about her questions what Nick would have made of her, sitting there trying to break the ice with someone so completely different to herself. Snape was still writing his questions, so she sat patiently, waiting for him to finish too.

Cecilia looked down at her paper, re-reading the questions and answers she had written, and remembered playing this team-building game when she had joined the company he worked for, her last laboratory job. Cecilia had worked as a process chemist there, working her way up to section leader in less than a year. The work came so easy to her, that hadn't been the problem and she wondered whether, if she had recognised that awkward feeling in her stomach that something wasn't quite right the first day she was there, if she would have had the courage to do something about it.

She would never have met Nick Smith though, and spent so many wonderful night shifts laughing with him and the others, working all together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"So", said Snape, bring Cecilia back down to earth. "What do we do now?"

Cecilia uncurled her leg, which she had tucked under herself subconsciously as she was writing, and leaned forward for the dice.

"Now, one of us starts, and throws the dice". She threw the dice on the coffee table. It was a four. "Then, I read out the question I wrote for number four", she said, glancing at her paper, "and you give me the answer that you wrote down for number four." She glanced at him, and read, "Do you have a middle name?"

"Bath buns", replied Snape, and she thought she noticed an expression of mirth pass over his face.

"I'm guessing that must be your favourite food, or else your mum had a terrible sense of humour", she said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Funny", he intoned. "Yes, I am rather partial to Bath buns. As for my middle name, I don't have one. Do you?"

"Jane", replied Cecilia. She'd always hated it, so ordinary. "Cecilia Jane Wells", she added.

"Wells? I thought your name was Frobisher"

"Wells is my maiden name", replied Cecilia. "I'm actually thinking of changing back to it." She handed him the dice. "Now its your turn."

Snape threw a one. He looked down at his paper.

"How old were you when you got married?"

"I've got two answers, my sister and Freya." she relied, grinning.

"Who are they, close friends?

"Well, yes they are, but not in the way you mean. They are both the two people I named in my will last week as my sole beneficiaries should I not come back from what I'm going to be doing here", she replied. The look on his face told Cecilia he wasn't expecting that. He was staring at her. "Freya is my best friend Libby's daughter," she continued.

"No, I did not mean that. You are indeed sensible, Cecilia," he said, eyeing her. "What we face, as I have said, affects us all."

"I don't expect otherwise", she replied. "My acceptance of this work with you is something that I haven't undertaken lightly. And I can understand that there are some things you can't tell me."

He paused and swallowed. It looked to Cecilia like he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

"Shall we continue?"

Cecilia reached across the table and shook the dice. "Six" she said.

"Aren't you going to answer my question?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"21" replied Cecilia, "I got married on my 21st birthday, in fact". She looked down, hoping he couldn't see the expression on her face, and pretended to look for her question 6.

"Right, who is your favourite historical figure?" she asked.

"Muggle or wizard?" he replied, looking at her.

"You're supposed to say the answer you wrote to number six", said Cecilia, looking back. "And anyway, what do you mean, muggle or wizard? Do you lot have separate historical figures?"

"You've probably heard of all of our wizarding historical figures anyway; my favourite is Merlin".

"Merlin? But he's a fictional character! Well, mythological at any rate, and if he did exist he was just a 6th century man."

"That's him." replied Snape. He really does have a deep, gravelly voice, said Cecilia to herself.

Cecilia shook her head in mock annoyance. "So", she continued, "What was your answer for number six?"

""Once"", he said, "My answer was "once". The question would have been, have I ever worked in a research capacity with anyone".

"And?"

"That "once" would be you, Cecilia Jane Wells!"

She laughed, to indicate that she presumed he wasn't taking the mick.

"What about you?" he continued.

"Plenty, but that was the nature of my work. Before I became a teacher of course. Nick Smith was about the best person I've ever worked with. As square as they come, but he's proud of that."

"What about your historical figure?"

"Well, let's hope you don't think he's mythological," she smiled. "James Watt" she said, then added. "Have you heard of him?"

"Not as such," he said, awkwardly. "Is he a scientist?"

"He was, well an engineer actually, he lived about 200 years ago. Had he not gone into business with another man, Matthew Boulton, Britain's history would have been very different".

"Perhaps, whilst we are working, you could tell me about him. As I said, I don't know that much about muggles", he said.

"Well, the same goes for me", laughed Cecilia. "In the reciprocal, I mean. At least you've had longer to get your head round all of this; this time yesterday I was on a train down here expecting to go to an industrial interview. For muggles", she added.

"Not that much more time", he said. "My other duties within the Order have been more demanding of late. I actually found out the nature of the work in its entirety last week."

"What is it that we are actually going to be doing?" asked Cecilia. "What is the Professor hoping we'll develop?"

"That I cannot tell you, until all the details have been finalised", replied Snape, waving his wand over the tea tray. "More tea", he explained, and continued. "There are far wider implications than just our collaboration".

"Some wizards, especially those who the Order is trying to vanquish, believe science poses a danger to us. The way you use your technology, you have to admit yourself, you've seen us using magic for almost a day now. Even an intelligent muggle like you Cecilia has to admit that your ways are far inferior to ours. Therefore it is logical for some wizards to wish to kill you, cut out the dead wood." He saw the expression on her face.

"You mean these are the people, the wizards we are to fight? Whom the Order are fighting?"

"Yes, in part", replied Snape, sipping his tea. "But you have to realise…you must have noticed that some wizards even here…." He paused. "There are some prejudices so deeply ingrained even in those who are fighting the Dark Lord and his followers. That muggles are inferior to wizards is one of them".

Cecilia couldn't speak. She thought desperately for something comprehensible to say.

"May I ask, do you feel like this?" she demanded, the volume of her voice rising.

"Personally, I feel there is very much to gain from our working together", he replied. His expression was unreadable and Cecilia couldn't tell if he meant it.

"However" he continued, "You will not fail to realise that magic is far more powerful than science".

"But", Cecilia was on her feet now, voice raised "you speak as if we are no more than, than animals. Have you ever considered that due to the very fact that we cannot do magic, our skills, ingenuity, and toil in discovering and inventing engines, and instruments to improve our lives, medicines, transport, that we are in fact superior. As far as logic goes, it is more sensible to say we are better than wizards, who merely have to learn a spell and wave a wand."

"Consider apes being taught how to use a typewriter – they can type which is quite a sophisticated feat I'm told, but ultimately, they are still apes. That is the image that muggles present of themselves to wizards as a whole."

Before she had time to reply, the door opened and Remus walked in.

"Is everything OK?" he asked, concerned. "We heard raised voices. Cecilia?" He looked between her and Snape.

"Lupin. What is it with you always interfering? We were merely having a discussion", said Snape, almost spitting the words at Remus.

Remus looked questioningly at Cecilia; she noticed there was a hint of request in his eyes, as if he was daring her to disagree. He approached the coffee table. Just as Cecilia was about to say she was fine, Remus carried on.

"I am merely concerned with Mrs Frobisher's welfare. And my concern is hardly unjustified". Cecilia noticed light flash across Snape's eyes.

"Mrs Frobisher and I were just discussing the _prejudices_ she may face from certain members of the wizard community". There was an unspoken dialogue taking place between Snape and Remus now.

"I cannot begin to imagine what it is you are talking about," began Remus, carefully.

"No? My, my, Lupin, I don't remember you having such a short memory. Maybe it's the medication. Or the company you keep? I'll assume he's been kept on his leash?" He looked across to Cecilia, who was now totally at a loss.

"And I am sure Mrs Frobisher is by now aware of your opinions of her," said Remus forcefully, "Hence my concern".

"As I said, it is not I over whom there should be concern. Now a certain mongrel on the other hand…"

"That was a long time ago", snapped Remus, then paused.

"Cecilia", he said, turning to her. "When you've packed this afternoon, I was wondering whether you would like me to accompany you back to Euston?"

"It's fine, really, I'd much prefer to go on my own." She tuned and smiled at Snape. "And Severus has kindly offered to collect me."

"Okay then", said Remus, glancing back between Cecilia and Snape. "I'll leave you to it".

When Remus had closed the door, Cecilia looked back at Snape. His granite expression had reappeared, and he had paced over to the fireplace, arms folded. She wondered what they were going to do now.

"I have many failings, Cecilia", he began. "However I can assure you, I do not have that prejudice." She looked at him, his expression stony.

You do, thought Cecilia, but there's a lot more here than I could have possibly imagined.

"I think I'll go and pack", said Cecilia, making to go. "Thanks for the tea. See you Friday".

88888888

The rest of her afternoon had been an interesting one. When Cecilia had walked out of the meeting with Snape, she had made to go to her room to pack. The wizards who had been at lunch were no longer in the living room, but she had found herself looking round the room for some presence that she could sense there. The book Remus had loaned her earlier was still in the living room and, considering whether she should take it home with her.

When she'd carried her bag down an hour later, she spoke to Mrs Weasley about making some sandwiches for the train journey. She insisted she make them herself, while Molly watched in amazement. At least Cecilia assumed it was amazement; she seemed both aghast and in awe as Cecilia buttered the bread herself and sliced cucumber and tomato. Then Mr Weasley apparated into the kitchen, scaring Cecilia half to death and making her drop the tin foil.

He was very keen to talk to her, and within ten minutes they were having an interesting discussion about engineering and science, while he keenly questioned her. Cecilia didn't mind one bit; it made a refreshing change from school children and it wasn't until Tonks, Bill and Charlie joined them that she noticed it was nearly 6 o'clock. She'd have to leave now else she'd miss the train. Mr Weasley insisted that he accompanied her to the station and Cecilia wondered secretly whether it was because he wanted to travel on the London Underground.

"We'll be seeing you soon then," said Tonks, as Cecilia made her way into the living room to collect her bag.

"I expect so, Professor Snape is coming to collect me from home, then we're starting work", replied Cecilia. Tonks sniggered.

"What?" asked Cecilia. "He didn't seem too bad", she said, reproachfully. He seemed very weird, tacit, but yet in a small way, almost tragic, like a spell of cold rain on a summer's afternoon. She wondered how they would get on working together; he was so very different to herself.

"Just you wait", said Bill, shuddering in jest, "You'll be given detention within a week!"

"Or worse", said Charlie, laughing. "What? " he asked, as Mrs Weasley raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'll just take your bag", said Mr Weasley, "There's something I must do quickly before we go", and disappeared through a door Cecilia had failed to notice until now, at the far end of the living room. Failed, she thought, or it hadn't been there. She wondered whether she would ever get use to this…magic.

"Well, I think I've got everything," said Cecilia, looking round. Then she remembered "Mysterious Mythology". Maybe she should take it with her. Remus had given it to her, after all. She picked it up from the coffee table. Tonks looked at her, and back at the book.

"Remus gave you that?" asked Tonks, questioningly, eyebrows raised. Mrs Weasley coughed and turned away, and walked back to the kitchen, beckoning Bill and Charlie to follow her.

"Yes, "said Cecilia slowly. "Is that a problem?" Tonks's expression seemed like a mixture between incredulity and concern. But before Tonks could reply, Remus came down the stairs.

"Are you off home now, Cecilia?" he asked as he approached them. He noticed Tonks's expression, and gave her a look, which Cecilia took to mean "later".

"I was going to the book you lent me back home, is that OK with you?" she wouldn't normally have asked. But whatever was going on, she was determined to play her part thoroughly.

"Of course," he said carefully, "Why would there be a problem?". He looked back at Tonks, whose face had gone blank, as if she was trying not to give away anything. She would have got away with it not been for the fact that her hair was flicking through every conceivable colour, presumably out of her control.

"Have a safe trip", said Tonks stiffly, and headed towards the kitchen.

"What was that all about?" said Cecilia, and before he could answer, she continued, "I understand there are plenty of other things that I don't know, that much is clear." Whether for security, or whether you think I am too stupid to understand because I'm a muggle, she thought grimly.

Remus must have read her thoughts, because he came closer to her, and looked her straight in the eye. She hadn't noticed yesterday but, underneath the "1940s public school geography teacher" look, there was definitely something. He sighed, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

"The book that I gave you is very old, and Tonks is surprised that I gave it to you because it is one of the only things that I have of my family's. I expect she thinks that it is strange that I did."

"I'd be inclined to agree", said Cecilia, not breaking eye contact. And I bet he'll come up with some flimsy excuse for my keeping it. Not that I wouldn't like to, she thought, I've never seen anything like it.

"We think this, at least something inside this is the key to what you're trying to discover, you and Snape," he said, almost spitting at the word "Snape". "The book was written hundreds of years ago, but many of the stories still exist as myths and legends, just as to muggles, wizards such as Merlin and Gandalf are myths."

"Wizards, despite them thinking they know everything, actually pales in comparison to what muggles as a whole know about nature and science. There is definitely something fundamental that bridges magic and non-magic. You know about science, Cecilia, which is the advantage we have over the enemy".

"But I don't know what I am supposed to be finding out", she replied, still looking at him, at his eyes. What pale eyes, she thought, as if moonlight was shimmering from within them.

"And besides, Professor Dumbledore said that if I were to tell anyone then I'd instantly forget about my employment here. What happens if anyone reads it?" She held the book up towards Remus, trying not to notice there were only a few inches between them

"Keep it, please. I would really like you to keep it," he said, pressing the book into her hands. "Security-wise, if any muggle reads it, they'll just see they'll just think they've been reading muggle fairy tales."

"It is beautiful" she conceded, looking down at the front cover, then back at Remus. He smiled, and Cecilia could feel herself smiling too.

Someone coughed. It was Mr Weasley.

"Ready to go?" he said. Cecilia turned, and nodded.

"Thank you, Remus. It's lovely." She held out her hand, and he shook it. Then she turned and walked over to Mr Weasley.

"We'll see you soon", said Remus.

They left through the front door and, stepping out into the balmy July evening, Cecilia noticed the houses either side move together, as if closing the void Number Twelve was leaving. Not for the first time Cecilia marvelled at this opportunity to see something most people did not.

Mr Weasley strode down the steps, and Cecilia followed then, she realised she still had Remus's book in her hand, she stopped Mr Weasley, so she could put it in her bag, before continuing on.

"Do you think that you'll be able to do all that Dumbledore is asking of you?" asked Mr. Weasley, they walked the quarter-mile to the nearest underground station.

"I don't know what he is actually asking of me, to be honest", replied Cecilia, "but in general, I think so. Having said that, it's not every day that you find out the existence something as fundamental as magic".

"Some wizards feel the same about non-magic", said Mr. Weasley. "The members of the Order you've seen, and Molly and I, we're all used to the non-magic world. My department deals with wizard-muggle relations, for example. But there are some wizards who are don't, who have never heard about muggles and are horrified when they find out." He smiled at Cecilia. "Their upbringing", he said simply. Cecilia shivered as a breeze caught them.

As they walked, she thought back to that afternoon, the time she had spent with Snape, and thought to herself that what had been unspoken was probably more significant than what they had said to one another. And what on earth had Snape and Remus been on about?

Remus, she mused, thinking about those pale eyes that had stared into hers… I'll look at that book when I'm on my own, at home. Then I can try to work out what the heck he was talking about, she thought, casting her mind back to their conversation.

"Is this it?" asked Mr Weasley, as they walked towards the bright lights of the small suburban underground station twinkled in the balmy summer evening.

Their journey to Euston was hardly surreptitious; Mr Weasley had insisted he purchase the tickets from the machine, but spent the first five minutes trying to put in two rather large gold coins which Cecilia had never seen the like of before into the machine until she handed him a ten pound note. Then he'd tried to walk through the turnstile onto the underground, before turning round to look at Cecilia pushing through it. Wizards, she thought, superior? My foot!

"Are you going to be OK getting back to Grimmauld Place?" Cecilia asked, when they had got to Euston, thinking Mr Weasley would probably be stopped for being drunk and disorderly if he tried to go back on his own.

"Fine fine", said Mr Weasley, "I'll just…" and he motioned clicking his fingers, indicating he would apparate. She took her bag, which he had kindly offered to carry for her and went to the ticket office.

Her train would be leaving in ten minutes she noticed so Cecilia purchased her ticket and waved back to Mr Weasley, to indicate everything was OK, he waved back. Then she heard a loud bang, and a cloud of smoke filled the space where Mr Weasley had been standing.

Ticket in hand, Cecilia stood still for a moment then turned, straight-faced, and walked in the direction of the platforms, forcing herself not to turn round at the confusion that was about to unfold behind her. It wasn't until she actually boarded the train, found her seat and sat down, that she allowed herself to laugh and once she started it took some other passengers asking whether she was all right some ten minutes into the journey before she could finally control it.

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Two and a half hours later she arrived at Birmingham New Street. It was dark now, and she pulled her bag from the seat next to her onto her shoulder. On the journey up she had been thinking about everything that had gone on over the last early two days. The most effective way she could rationalise it was sort it out into boxes in her head, with interrelated threads linking them.

She crossed the mezzanine to platform 2a and sat on the platform waiting for her local train. The air had become much colder and she pulled a cardigan from her bag, while she waited. Ten minutes to go. She sat down on one of the metal seat and thought.

There existed a world where people pretty much like herself but could do magic. Move things by magic, cause phenomena to happen. They lived with it, used it. To her mind, magic couldn't be isolated as a difference between her and them, it was innate: just as the ability for some people to be able to draw and paint spectacularly without any training whatsoever. Instinct.

A train, not stopping at New Street hurtled through another platform behind Cecilia, making her lose her concentration. She looked at the digital clock. 21.57: seven minutes before the train was due to depart.

But this difference, she thought, was enough to make wizards hate non-magical people – muggles – because we weren't like them. It could certainly be called prejudicial, just as some people differentiate because of colour, race; you name it. But whereas racial prejudice arises from ignorance, this arises from their ability to be exactly like us…..plus. Human plus. She sighed, and tried to clear a thinking space in her mind.

Isn't that how you could think of humans, muggles then, compared to animals, animals plus? Humans can speak and communicate in what we think as more superior to animals, so we treat them as inferior. Isn't that the same situations for how some wizards think of humans?

Cecilia shuddered at the thought of where her mind was wandering off to; how accurate were her assumptions? She'd even compared Snape's attitude of assumed superiority to muggles being treated like animals. And what had he said about muggles being like apes taught how to type? No, she thought firmly. I am going to have to do this, me. Prove that we're more than just animals-plus.

That was it, she said, realisation dawning. She had been having trouble actually rationalising to herself why she had taken on this work, when all logical signals in her head should have been telling her something was wrong. Now she had had time to think about it, and reason out her instincts, she felt much better, knowing that she must have reasoned it out subconsciously in order for few doubts to have bothered her. That's why she had felt right in accepting to Dumbledore. And in any case, he was very nice, genuine. So were all the others, maybe a little bit mad though; Mr Weasley could even rival many of the non-wizard anoraks with his keenness on engineering and all things mechanical.

Just then, a two-carriage diesel pulled into the station, and slowed at the points. Cecilia stood up, and picked up her bag. A couple of other people had arrived on the platform since she had got there. She walked over to the carriage door, and waited for the passengers to exit. Then she boarded behind the other passengers and after she had found a seat, swung her bag onto the seat next to her.

The weight of the bag reminded her that "Mysterious Mythology" was what was extra inside. Tonks had seemed ever so surprised that Remus had given it to her. No, not just surprised, thought Cecilia, a bit indignant too. How nice he seems to be, she thought. Though there was an air of sadness there. It doesn't matter, she thought. Perhaps Professor Snape will be able to fill me in, she thought, considering the afternoon. Or maybe not.

The train pulled away and Cecilia tried to concentrate on her forthcoming work, but her mind kept betraying her. She couldn't help her thoughts switching back to Remus.

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She arrived at her front door just after midnight, the train taking far longer than it normally did to Edgeford. She was surprised therefore to see all the lights on, and her stereo on. Backstreet Boys sounded worse out here than they normally did.

She opened the front door, and walked into the lounge. There were a few cans of opened lager on the coffee table, and the patio doors were open at the back. Cecilia put her bag down in the hall, and walked through the lounge. Just then her sister Amy walked in though the patio doors, her boyfriend of the moment walking with her, arms round her waist. She stopped.

"Cec!" she said. "Thought you were going to be away for a bit". She turned off the stereo and sat on the sofa, Boyfriend standing next to her, looking sheepish.

"So I see", said Cecilia, too tired to be too cross. "Just came back for a few things."

"Patrick came over because Mrs Newman next door phoned mum. She thinks there were prowlers in the back garden the last night. She thought we should stay to keep an eye out", she added, glancing up at Patrick.

Well, mum knows best, thought Cecilia, wondering how quickly Amy had volunteered. 0.5 seconds after, probably.

"Yeah fine, I'm just going to get on and have a shower", said Cecilia, noticing the crestfallen look pass between Amy and Patrick. She knew it was a mean what she was going to do, but as Eldest, she was obliged to make her little sister's life at least a bit difficult sometimes!

"Patrick, do you think you could make a pot of tea?" she asked. He scuttled away, silently.

"What did you have to go and do that for?" asked Amy angrily. A cool breeze was coming in through, so Cecilia got up and closed the patio doors.

"I'm going to be away from a while, working," said Cecilia. "I'm going to need someone to keep an eye on this place, its going to be for at least for six months". She smiled inwardly to herself, noticing Amy's demeanour brighten. "So I think one night in my own house before I go isn't too much to ask."

"So, what's this wonderful job like then," asked Amy, changing the subject. "You certainly look a hell of a lot better than you did a couple of weeks ago."

"Well, I haven't have mum nagging at me to pull myself together for the last couple of days", said Cecilia.

"She's not that bad", said Amy reproachfully. "She's got your best interests at heart, you know".

Cecilia thought about the time her mum had stormed into school demanding to know why nothing was being done to stop her daughter being bullied. To the headmaster. In assembly. In front of the whole school. Yes, mum always has her best interests at heart. It's just the way she went about showing it sometimes.

"I know, Ames", said Cecilia, " but I'm not as used to her ways any more."

Just then, Patrick re-entered the room with a pot of tea and three mugs. There were also a few biscuits on a plate. He saw her notice them. "Thought you might be hungry", he said, putting the tray onto the coffee table.

"We'll be off to Patrick's after this" said Amy, pouring the tea as Patrick sat down next to Amy. He nodded, looking warily at Cecilia. The power, she thought, chuckling to herself.

"I was just telling Cec that Mrs Newman told mum she'd heard prowlers," said Amy, "and we popped in to make sure everything was OK".

"I'm grateful," said Cecilia, selecting a Bourbon biscuit. "Hope you both can do as good a job when I go back to work"

"You had a call this afternoon", continued Amy "Nick, wanting to know if you were interested working back at the lab. Said he hoped you'd turned down the Patent Office because, and I quote 'you're too good for those soft Southern bastards'."

"I'll call him tomorrow", said Cecilia, yawning and thinking about her lovely soft bed. And about getting up and not being screamed at by a picture of someone who was dead or being offered shopping tips by the bathroom mirror.

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She woke up early, with the sun shining through the window. Her bed was lovely and soft and she didn't want to get out of it. Amy, bless her, had changed the covers (Cecilia tried not to think why), and she was reaping the benefits. She turned over, to go back to sleep, and closed her eyes, glorying in the luxury that were her own white linen sheets.

She was home. Cecilia never thought she'd miss home as much as she had done over the past long two days. Those days when she had barely moved off the sofa, her mind beguiling her into a false sense of security that she was content, only to jab he sharply in the cerebellum to alert her to the events of the most painful moments of these last few months.

Now she just felt happy. What was causing that? Oh yes, the job she had just accepted, she thought. I've got something to look forward to, a bright point on an otherwise dull horizon. A bright point, created by magic nevertheless…… I think the only way I am going to be able to cope with this is to treat it like any other job that I'm not familiar with, and try to accept that magic is a quirk of their nature. Like double-jointedness. Genetic.

She glanced over to her bedside table. "Mysterious Mythology" was lying there; Cecilia had tried to read a bit last night in bed, but had been overcome with tiredness and had discarded it. I'll look at it later, she thought, turning over.

The sunlight gradually grew more intense as Cecilia lay wrapped up in her own covers. I'm home, she thought, for the hundredth time. When the sun was positively cooking her room, she decided to get up and think about having some breakfast. She glanced over to her alarm clock: 9.45. Blimey, thought Cecilia, better make that brunch, and she got out of bed for a quick shower.

The toast was doing under the grill when Amy popped by, an hour later.

"Sorry about last night", she said, helping herself to tea. "Patrick was just keeping me company."

"'s OK Amy", replied Cecilia, retrieving a piece of toast that was nearly overdone. "I was young once too, remember?" She grinned at her sister, and Amy grinned back.

"Are you serious about my looking after the house while you're away. How long for?"

"Definitely serious", replied Cecilia, joining Amy at the kitchen table. "My accommodation's close to work", she said, thinking about 12 Grimmauld Place, "and it's free. There's enough money in the bank to cover the mortgage on direct debit but you'll have to sort out the bills, and telephone yourself, OK?"

"Great, " said Amy, "Anything to get out from under mum's wing for a bit. Have you got a number I can call you on, emergencies, and the like?"

"Not as such," said Cecilia, carefully, "but I'll call when I can. I've got an address though, you can write, if you like". She saw Amy grimace, and clarified, "It's for emergencies, so you don't have to use it unless there's anything vital you need to tell me".

"Mum wants to see you, anyway. She said so last night, would you believe she was waiting up for me? Honestly! Anyone would think I was twelve!" Amy helped herself to another piece of toast, smothering it in jam.

Cecilia would believe it; mum was very overbearing at times. Through it all though, Cecilia knew she just had her daughters' best interests at heart. Amy would come to see it, in time.

"I probably won't be able to call today, I'm going to be really busy today. Does Tony next door to mum know anyone who might like to buy the car?"

"Dunno", said Amy offhandedly, mouth full of jammy toast. "You might not be able to get a buyer if you're only going to be around for a couple of days." Cecilia knew where this was leading, but it would be more amusing watching Amy convince her not to sell it for her own ulterior motives.

"What do you think I should do with it?" Cecilia got up to reboil the kettle. "There's no-one I know off-hand who could afford to buy the Alfa." Despite Amy's numerous office jobs, and career plans, money left her hands as if it were water.

"Well you'll probably need it when you get back, and if you sell it you won't get a decent price at such short notice." True, thought Cecilia.

"If I were to look after it for you, I could use it now and again, to get shopping for mum. And then it'd still be yours".

Who said reverse psychology didn't work?

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It was nearly 5 o'clock when Cecilia got off the bus a little down the road from at Libby's. She half expected her friend not to be in; she'd tried to call her from town when she was shopping and there'd been no answer. She made her way up the garden path, and rang the bell anyway.

She had spent the rest of the morning after breakfast finding out some old books she'd had when she did her degree, and also some science revision guides and A-level books. She'd looked at the small mountain on her study floor, trying to narrow down the selection, but finding reasons to keep them. It was difficult; I mean, what do you teach someone who doesn't know what science even is? It wasn't like there was a National Curriculum scheme of work!

She'd had the same problem when she'd called in to see Nick, although a high percentage of the time spent at her old work had been taken up by their gossiping and banter, which hadn't taken long to fall back into.

"I'll get you some of the basics; pipettes, reflux condensers, glassware, then I can drop some more off when I'm next down London. Wish you weren't going though Cec, the place hasn't been the same without you. The guy we replaced you with: fantastic, technically, but doesn't have your point of view on breaking into Biomed and stealing the guar."

"I actually need them sooner than that. Do you think you would come by mine tomorrow?"

"You're a hard woman to please, Mrs Frobisher", said Nick, winking. "It'll have to be early, say 7.30?"

"So tea and toast on the table for 6am then?" Nick was always early for everything.

You've got it!"

Ah Nick, she though, ringing Libby's bell again, life just isn't the same without you, either.

Just as she turned to walk away, the door opened and her best friend in all the world shouted, "And it's about bloody time, Cecilia Wells! Just where do you think you're going?"

Cecilia turned round grinning broadly. She walked back up to her front door, and was met legs-on by Freya, Libby's seven year old daughter.

"Aunty Celia, Aunty Celia!" she cried, as Cecilia bent lower to greet her. "Mummy said we wouldn't see you for a long time! Look," Freya held out a drawing on crinkly lining paper. "I drew you and Tippex and the goldfish!"

"Freya darling," said Cecilia, kissing her on the cheek. "What an outstanding picture. Did you do that all by yourself?" Freya nodded, and grabbed her sleeve.

"Aunty Celia's coming!" laughed her mother, relieving Cecilia of the cake. "Tea, my dear?" she said, closing the front door and heading to the kitchen

"Lovely, murmured Cecilia following her, glancing round the hall. "My, you have worked hard to get this finished". Cecilia had remembered it last with the plaster exposed with Libby's husband promising to finish it off.

"Derek finally did it! Look what my fantastic husband can do when he puts his mind to it", said Libby, then noticing a flicker across Cecilia's face, quickly added, "Oh my darling, I am sorry".

Cecilia sat down on a chair.

"Let's not talk about that now. That job I went for interview for..." she began.

"You've got a new job, Aunty Celia?" asked Freya, sitting herself on Cecilia's lap. "What are you going do?"

"I'm going to work, in a lab, like when I used to work with Nick. You remember Nick, don't you?"

"Yes!" said Freya, giggling. " I like him. He was funny! He kept making me jump and tickling me at Christmas!"

"Yes, he did", said Cecilia, remembering Nick, the "I love children - on toast" man. "And then you went to sleep on him, do you remember, and he wouldn't let us move you." She turned back to Libby. "He definitely missed his calling, that man, teaching year 1s! "

Libby laughed. "You got the job, then? That's such good news, Cec, I'm do pleased for you. Tell me everything; you were so mysterious about the interview!"

"All in good time", said Cecilia. She wanted to wait until she had Libby's full attention. Anyway, the interview consisted of very little that she could remember at the time; which of course made perfect sense, now.

"Have you seen your mum yet?" continued Libby, pouring the just-boiled kettle water into the teapot. "Freya, can you get some mats out, there's a good girl". She opened the Marks and Spencer carrot cake and put it on a plate with a knife, and got out some side plates.

"Yes, I popped in this morning, before I went shopping. She didn't criticise me at all; in fact she said I looked happier than she'd seen me in months. It was Amy who was the topic of conversation, actually. Speaking of shopping," she bet down and retrieved a purple box from her bag.

"This is for Freya's birthday," she said, noticing her goddaughter's eyes light up. "Seeing as I won't be here for her birthday…"

"Ohhh!" Freya complained.

"Is it all right if she has this now, Mum?" said Cecilia, turning her head towards her friend.

It wouldn't have mattered if Libby hadn't have nodded; Freya already had the box in her hands, looking up at her mum, with wide-eyed pleasing that only a child can get away with convincingly.

"You can open it now", said Libby, setting the teapot and cups down on the table, and sitting down opposite Cecilia and her daughter. "But then I'm going to put it up for your actual birthday."

While Freya hungrily dived into the box, Cecilia looked across at her friend. She seemed happy and contented as always. She'd known Libby since they were eleven, braving the new horizon of secondary school together. Cecilia was dreading it, hoping that she would remember her way round and not get lost. They'd sat by each other in form on the first day, and the rest, as they say, is history.

"How's Amy doing?" asked Libby. "Up to her hundredth yet?"

"Probably," replied Cecilia, sipping her tea that Libby had poured; her sister's appetite for the opposite sex was legend.

"Look Mummy, look Mummy!" cried Freya, holding the present in her hands: a beautiful gold bangle, engraved with small loops. It had been given to Cecilia by her grandmother when she was about Freya's age. Cecilia had had it engraved with Freya's date of birth on its inside.

Libby gasped, then regained composure.

"Freya," she said to her daughter. "Pop it back in the box, and put it on Mummy's dressing table." She obeyed her mother, and hurried upstairs.

"It's stunning and Freya will treasure it," Libby leaned across the table and held Cecilia's hand. "But I've got to ask, are you sure?"

"Of course, Libs," replied Cecilia. "I know I said I would be keeping it for my child, but…well after Tim, after everything, there's not much chance of my having children. Freya is like my own daughter. Ever since you put her into my arms when she was hours old. There's no one else I'd like to have it."

Libby squeezed her hand, and gave her a look, their look of friendship: unspoken. It could say a thousand things, Cecilia knew. Here it meant, "You've got over the worst, and I'm proud of you."

Half an hour later, Freya bathed and bedded; a good old bottle of wine opened and Queen's Greatest Hits (the 3-volume version) on as background music, Cecilia was ready to talk about her job. She was aware it would take an awful amount of effort to effectively lie to her best friend and despite trying to tell herself that it wasn't lying, just editing the truth, even Cecilia didn't believe it.

"How long will you be away?" asked Libby, curling into the sofa with her glass of wine. If Cecilia didn't know otherwise, se could almost convince herself that they were sixteen again, telling each other secrets and gossiping in Libby's bedroom.

"Well, six months, initially. But it depends how the research is going, whether we can find what we are looking for, or if it goes really well", said Cecilia, hoping that she wasn't blushing. That always gave her away. Tippex, Libby's black cat, slinked onto her lap and began to purr, looking up for the corresponding fuss that usually followed.

"Blimey, that's a long time. But I suppose you can come back for weekends and hols. What is it you're researching? Or can't you tell me? Official Secrets Act?"

"Something like that," said Cecilia, reaching over to the Rioja and refilling her glass. "Working in the Patent Office means we have 3 lots of confidentiality: over the research for the office; between the office and the clients taking out patents, and inter-departmental confidentiality". She was glad she'd done her homework. The Internet was a true marvel of the modern age.

"Gosh. That does sound important. Plenty of responsibility then? Bet the pay's good?" Cecilia nodded; Dumbledore had told her that once they'd worked out a way of easily exchanging wizard money for muggle money, he'd get it put straight into her bank.

"And the best thing is, I don't know exactly what I'm going to be doing yet, not in detail. I've met the bloke I'm going to be working with though", said Cecilia, thinking of Snape. "He's going to take some getting used to. Reminds me of Mr Simmonds".

"Not Sonorous Simmonds, the foghorn of the history department? Do you remember us being kept in detention when he didn't believe that we had handed in our homework because he'd lost it? Then spent the whole time bellowing down the phone to some poor parent?"

Cecilia laughed. Yep. Sonorous Simmonds.

"Yes, this fellow's very much like Simmonds, lookswise that is."

"Doesn't sound like him, though," Cecilia mused. "Sounds just like the actor who played the Sheriff of Nottingham on Robin Hood Prince of Thieves."

"…"cut your heart out with a spoon! Why a spoon, cousin? Why not a sword or an axe? Because it's dull, you idiot, it'll hurt more!…" " quoted Libby. They both laughed. Yes, it was definite, thought Cecilia. They were both sixteen again. And by God, she does a good impression of Snape.

They sat there chatting for a while, talking about Nick coming round in the morning to drop off some glassware and the quips he'd make about Amy staying to look after her house. They laughed about school and Uni; the time they made their way to the caretaker's office and into the cellar to the air raid shelters; Cecilia tripping over down the steps of the hall breaking her ankle which had resulted in her being taken to A and E….

They greeted Derek as he came in the door with giggles and chuckles like they were sharing a joke and no-one else was invited. (Derek just rolled his eyes knowingly and made himself some supper).

And soon the inevitable came, the one Cecilia had known would come, about Tim, and how she was feeling. The atmosphere tensed a little, just briefly as Libby asked how she felt about going away for the job.

What could she say? All she knew was that it seemed right.

"Every time I think about it, I feel so regretful. Just thinking how my life could have worked out, and what could have become of us. I imagined us sitting together in our old age, still at number 5," she paused, seeing Libby's eyebrows raise. Libby liked the nice things in life and worked hard for them. Cecilia on the other hand was happy as long as it worked, did its job. Her house worked, and she'd been blissfully happy there with Tim, for seven years of their married life.

"…watching our grandchildren run around; me scolding my daughter-in-law for bringing up little rascals…" she sighed, reflecting on what might have been.

"You say all this", said Libby carefully, "and you're still happy to go away, a new life, in London? New friends, new people? Are you sure you don't want to stay here a bit longer? Maybe it's moving too fast for you?"

Cecilia knew his game. They'd played so many times before. Devil's Advocate. But she'd anticipated this. It had helped her in making her mind up in the first place.

"Yes you're right in so many ways", said Cecilia, sighing. "There are so many reasons to stay, and try to pick up the pieces. Go back to teaching and try to rebuild the picture of my life." She paused, and looked Libby straight in the eyes. "But it'd be like trying to assemble a jigsaw when I don't have enough pieces. It'd look OK from a distance, but there'd still be gaps, and it wouldn't be quite the same picture as it was before."

"No, I need a break from this," she continued, sipping from her glass, and setting it down. "The job's only temporary, and like you said when I went for the interview, it's what'd do me good".

Libby leaned across to her friend, and hugged her, splashing Cecilia with a bit of wine.

"I know, love", she said. "You're right. I'm going to miss you so much". They hugged again, the same hug they'd shared when Libby had been dumped by Richard Fellows when she was fourteen. The same one they'd shared when Cecilia was about to get married to Timothy Frobisher, "the hottest thing since sliced toast" (Libby had such a way with words). When Freya had been born, like a little pea; identical to her mother in every way.

Here they were again. If only Mrs Bailey had realised the implications of seating the form alphabetically so Elizabeth Walsh sat next to Cecilia Wells.

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Soon afterwards, Cecilia left, taking the quick way home. She'd declined a lift from Derek; it was still just light, though failing fast. Libby had complained about no having a phone number for her, but Cecilia had left her the contact address, and promised to call regularly.

The lovely heat of the day had cooled, and it was now refreshing. Giddied a little by the wine, and the angst she would feel leaving her friend, she strode on, thinking of shared things past; her mind wallpapered the pastel-yellow canvas trimmed with pale pink flowers of the kind her favourite school writing paper had been.

She was not as aware of her surroundings as she should have been and, if she hadn't knocked her toe against a stone on the path a few hundred yards from her house, bringing her to her senses, the event that were to follow that evening might have been totally different and this story might have ended here and now.

It was almost midnight when she got in, and she didn't notice at first that something was wrong. She kicked off her shoes in the hall, and threw her coat and bag on the telephone table chair. Damn, she thought, some wine on my top. She quickly pulled it over her head and headed for the cloakroom toilet and, filling the sink with cold water, plunged the offending top into it.

Satisfied she would sort it out in the morning, she left it, now wearing her jeans and a camisole top (what bust? she'd often told herself buying underwear). A cool breeze tickled her skin.

She looked at the front door and confirmed to herself that she had shut it. Then she glanced down the hall. It was then that she noticed the back door windowpane was smashed clean through. There was glass all over the floor and there was soil, which looked very much like it had come from her rose beds, was all over the place.

Then she noticed the light was on at the back of the house. She hurried in and in horror, looked at the chaos that had been her living room: books were strewn all over the place; the settees had lost their cushions; the Constable (print in frame from Boots) was ripped in half.

She glanced at the fireplace and her gaze confirmed it: the only thing Cecilia had allowed herself to keep of her and Tim on their wedding day. Not only smashed but also the picture completely destroyed… Upstairs was the same: her bedroom had been totally turned upside down; the covers were everywhere. Her dressing table was on its side, and the clothes were off their hangers out of the wardrobe.

Cecilia gripped her door handle, trying to think what to do: call the police, a voice in her head told her. She really wanted to call Libby, but she knew she'd be sound asleep by now with Derek, and little Freya between them.

A few silent gasps wracked her body, and she sat on the stairs, trying to compose herself. It was only stuff, she tried telling herself. The TV and stereo were still there (and the were good ones too) and it didn't look like they'd taken much.

Making her way towards the hall, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard two cracks, one after the other from the vicinity of the kitchen.

What the heck? she thought, wondering what on earth it was. Right, she thought, grabbing the umbrella out of the hall stand. If they're still here they won't be walking after I've finished with them; they're not going to break my Wedgwood too! She crouched down by the stairs, trying to hear their conversation.

"…it was lucky she wasn't here. Black could have killed her."

"Never!"

"You know he's done it before, Moody..."

"And you've not done anything you've regretted ever in your in your life…" the reply was more of a growl than speech.

"Fletcher," said the first voice, appearing to ignore the last comment. "I don't know why Dumbledore still trusts him. My spellbook could do a better job…"

"…Dumbledore will be furious. It's set us back months, years…."

Dumbledore? The realisation dissipated through Cecilia's brain much like food colouring in water and it wouldn't be until the morning that she'd realised how silly she must have looked marching into her own kitchen half-dressed holding an umbrella.

"Mrs Frobisher," Snape began eyeing her up and down, but the other wizard interrupted.

"I am sorry to meet you in such circumstances. My name is Moody, Alastor Moody." Cecilia said nothing, and looked between the wizard who had just introduced himself as Moody and Snape. She noticed with a little alarm that one of Moody's eyes moved around it socket more…dynamically…than ordinary eyes. It was as if he was trying to see things that weren't there.

"Do you know who's done this?" asked Cecilia. She was shaking, mostly through shock, but with a bit of annoyance thrown in.

Moody stopped his surveying of the room and looked back at her. "The wizard who was supposed to be guarding you whilst you were at home appears to have left his post for some reason," he said carefully.

"Some reason? You know he's trying to bootleg something or other." Snape turned and looked at Cecilia, whose anger was rising at the thought of her being followed.

He continued, "It was for your own protection", he clarified, as if this explained the situation.

"My own protection? Well a fine job of protection that was! Look at the state of my house – "

"Which, under the circumstances if you think about it, is exactly why we considered you needed protection. However the choice of Order member for this shift was somewhat…dubious". Snape glanced sideways at Moody.

"They're not here now, whoever it was that broke in", Moody was surveying the kitchen again. "But we only just missed them"

"Hmph!" said Snape, looking stern. Well more stern than usual, thought Cecilia, and despite herself, began to laugh uncontrollably, and sank down on one of the kitchen chairs. She looked up a few seconds later as Moody muttered something under his breath.

He waved his wand, and the shelf of cookery books that had been hanging up by only one bracket, made itself perpendicular to the wall. Cecilia didn't have the heart to mention that it had been like that for at least the last six months.

"We would like you to come back with us to Headquarters", said Moody, matter-of-factly.

"No," said Cecilia. "I'm not leaving. And besides I'm expecting someone to call tomorrow with some equipment we're gong to need." She looked at Snape, trying to convey the importance of what she had said.

"Someone from the Order must stay with you. We cannot guarantee your safety otherwise," said Moody. "If whoever broke into your house tonight returns, they may even kill you." His last comment didn't appear to have had the effect he was looking for.

"I was actually coming to meet Mrs Frobisher tomorrow so we could begin work", cut in Snape. "Perhaps it would be wise if I stay with her?"

"Hold on, before we go into all that, I'd actually like some answers," said Cecilia, still shaking. "Who's broken in? Do you know? And why?"

Neither of the wizards answered, and they glanced across between one another.

"No, none of that", said Cecilia getting to her feet again. "I've had just about enough of sidelong glances. I put up with it when I was at your headquarters, but this is my house. I heard you say something about someone called Black. Who's he?"

"Cecilia", said Snape, softly. "If you would permit me to stay with you here for your protection, I'll answer any questions you have."

"Well now, just a minute…" began Moody, but Snape had turned to Cecilia who nodded.

Moody looked between her and Snape, then –crack- he disapparated.

Cecilia sank back into her chair, and hung her head a bit. The evening had gone so well, but now she felt dreadful. Did she even want to leave now? She sighed.

Then Snape interrupted her thoughts. "You've had a dreadful shock, Cecilia," he said. "Why don't you make some tea? I'll get the place sorted out for you." To illustrate his point, he waved his wand towards the window and said, "Fenestra Reparo". The glass inside hopped together neatly, as if the smash was happening in slow motion.

"That would be great, Severus," she sighed, then added, "but after that, no more magic! I've had just about all I can take for one night."

Ten minutes later they were sitting around Cecilia's kitchen table drinking the tea she'd made. It had taken Snape only about five minutes to put the house back in order; the rest of the time he spent watching Cecilia make the tea bearing an expression of slight fascination.

"Right," said Cecilia. "What's all this about? And why were there muddy animal prints in the hall?" She'd noticed them when Snape had begun magicking away the damage.

"Cecilia," he said, in a low, gravelly voice. In a different person, it might be described as relaxing, she thought. You could be so very easily be beguiled; hypnotised by it.

"I gave you due warning that your work might put you in danger."

"However you neglected to tell me that was I to return home, I could possibly be attacked. Please be straight with me Severus," she sighed. It was far too late to be doing this, but the caffeine in the tea was slowly permeating her nervous system and she'd perked up a bit.

"Despite what you might think of me personally Severus, I would like some straight, honest answers. I think you owe me that". Or else I can't see a way round us working together, she thought.

"Before I start, may I ask you, Cecilia," he said, leaning closer to her. "Did you take or were you given anything when you were at the headquarters?"

"Yes, actually I did. Remus gave me an old book of his with muggle stories in and said I could keep it so I brought it home with me. Why?" Snape looked at her, as if she had just said a rude word.

"Did he tell you anything about the book?"

"Not as such."

There was silence. Cecilia kept quiet and trusted he would fill it. Her trust was not in vain.

"It has been thought for a long time now that there was a fundamental link between wizards and muggles in the way that wizards access magic and the way muggles use science. This is what Dumbledore believes will come from our collaboration with muggles who practice science." He paused and rose from his seat.

"There appears to be clues as to what that link may be, the nature of it. Something it is strongly believed has been passed down through wizard folklore. Elements remain as grains of truth running through these stories".

"Like "Mysterious Mythology"?" said Cecilia, rising. It was getting a bit chilly, so she pulled a throw from the bottom shelf of the kitchen cupboard and wrapped it round her shoulders, and sat back down.

"The book to which you refer, that was given to you", began Snape, in tones of pure granite, "is the oldest known volume of wizard fables in written form. The book you had, was nearly a thousand years old".

Cecilia looked at him aghast, mouth forming a little "o" of amazement.

"But", said Snape, turning his back on her, "the work we have all been doing towards this has been wasted. Thanks to Fletcher, now either the enemy has the book, or a wizard so arrogant he thinks nothing of endangering your life and all our work since the dark wizards have been active again."

He turned back to face Cecilia again.

"No," said Cecilia, quietly.

"Sorry?" asked Snape, standing next to her. "For someone who claims to be an intelligent muggle, you don't appear to understand the bigger picture."

"What is the bigger picture, would you care to enlighten me?" Cecilia was annoyed. How dare he talk to her like that!

"Well, as you know, your house was broken into and the book was taken."

"And how do you know that?" She stood up, throw discarded.

"That is clearly what the break-in was for. Surely you could have worked that one out for yourself."

"Fine," said Cecilia. "But aren't you forgetting there might be another explanation?"

"Like…" he intoned, as if he was trying to explain his point to a child.

Instead of replying, she exited the kitchen only to return with her handbag. She opened it in front of him. Mysterious Mythology sat amongst crumpled tissues, her purse and Freya's drawing.

No words passed between them for a few minutes, then Cecilia said, "I think we need to work on our communication skills if we are going to be working as part of a team" She looked at him, his eyes still displaying a certain shred of disbelief. His eyes met hers. "I include myself in that," she added.

Snape sat down next to her, still staring at the book, and sipped at his tea which was now cold. He waved his hand absently over the top and steam evolved, over the rim. So that's both of us that have had a shock tonight, thought Cecilia. I'll let that sleight of hand pass.

"Can you tell me Severus", Snape looked up sharply at her when she said his name. "Why this book is so important?"

"I just told you."

"No, you told me that it is probably the key to the link between wizard magic and muggle science. You didn't say how exactly this would involve us, as a team, I mean. How is it involved with our research?"

Snape held eye contact with her, then began to explain.

"I am not sure whether Dumbledore wishes you to know this information yet. However he doesn't know that you were foresighted enough to keep this with you, a quality Dumbledore trusts in anyone I have seen working for him, for the Order. The dark magic which has come to rule our time Cecilia affects not only wizards, but muggles"

That she already knew. Didn't Dumbledore speak of that a few days ago? How simple they sounded then. How full of ominous depth did they sound now?

Snape looked back at "Mysterious Mythology" and continued. "Even you have been affected by this. At the heart of the dark magic is someone so powerful his like has never been seen before. His contempt of muggles is well known, in the wizarding world, that is. However the reason why he despises them so deeply we have only just begun to investigate."

He looked back at Cecilia, who had folded her arms around herself. Snape moved closer to her.

"Here is the point of what I am trying to tell you Cecilia. When I talk about this, it may not a yet become apparent its significance. But this is only because you have experienced the wizarding world for such a short amount of time."

He means it, she thought. He didn't add that last bit on for my benefit, or out of politeness or duty.

"There is a boy, a young man now. When he was a baby, the Dark Lord tried to kill him and his family. His parents were murdered. However he survived and some of the powers of the Dark Lord were transferred to him."

He paused, waiting for it all to sink in before continuing.

"We have a vague idea that it was something to do with the bond with his mother that prevented him from also being murdered. However we need to look at the nature of his powers, those he inherited. We believe if we can remove his powers, we can use them as a weapon to fight the Dark Lord."

"Like immunisation", said Cecilia, quietly. Her mind had been operating on another level while Snape had been talking. It seemed to her that there was some kind of immunity that this boy had. Maybe that's where part of the answer lay.

"What? What's that?" asked Snape, frowning.

"Its where, you now, when you have a cut, and if bacteria enter the cut, you may have an infection which your body's immune system tries to fight?"

"What? Sorry, Cecilia, you've lost me".

"Your body's immune system…"

"My body's what?"

Oh dear, thought Cecilia.

"I think this is what Dumbledore may have been talking about", she said slowly.

"Agreed", Snape conceded. "That comes to where we are going when we leave tomorrow."

"Not back to Grimmauld Place?"

Snape stood up, and Cecilia followed his gaze.

"We are going back to the Wizarding School where I work. It's the summer holidays and there aren't any students in. I need to teach you magic; the principles, at least. You need to teach me science." She nodded in agreement.

That made sense, thought Cecilia. Then we can start off on common ground. Suddenly she felt a lot better; despite finding out she was now working in a war zone.

"That explains the dark wizards", said Cecilia. "Who's Black, then?"

Snape's face paled, and his face turned to thunder. Cecilia really thought he was going to hit something.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to", she said, more to break up the atmosphere that had just been created.

"If you don't mind, Cecilia, I would prefer to be left now, and I expect you must be tired. Perhaps we could leave it there?"

"Certainly", said Cecilia. "Nick's coming quite early tomorrow in any case and I feel shattered. Would you like to go to bed?"

Snape's face froze. If she hadn't felt so exhausted, Cecilia might have found the situation quite amusing.

"I mean, I've got a spare room upstairs that you're quite welcome to use."

"Thank you for the kind offer, Cecilia, but I think under the circumstances I'd rather stop up."

"Well, if there's anything you need, just help yourself. It's the least I can do".

She got up from the table and picked up "Mysterious Mythology".

"Cecilia", said Snape, a little shyly (if that were possible). "Thank you for the offer. Sleep well".

"Night", she said simply, and left him to himself.

88888888


	7. Reflections

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

It had been about 3am when Cecilia had dropped off. Her mind was whirring with the events of the evening. She had been a little concerned that she wouldn't actually get any sleep so she had taken "Mysterious Mythology" to bed with her to calm herself down.

Lying on her stomach with her pillows under her chest, she had read through most of the book and she had been amazed at the content. "Grimelda" stood out as being a story very similar to Rapunzel, but instead of the Prince climbing up her hair to scale her high tower, Grimelda had dropped objects out of the tower. The prince had seen that they landed together on the forest floor, not at separate intervals as the prince had thought. Then they fell in love, got married and lived happily ever after.

When she woke up the following morning, Cecilia was still in the same reading position, and was very stiff. She'd slept well, considering. She remembered dreaming about being on a moor or heath, looking for something, and finding a black dog guarding it. Funny, she thought, dreams. A shower, she thought to herself, clambered out of bed. Her mind thought back to the events of the previous evening: her house had been broken into. Yet why did she feel calm about it?

Considering this she absently slipped on her dressing gown, making her way to the bathroom and nearly got the fright of her life when she bumped into Snape coming up the stairs with a mug of tea in his hand. That's why she was calm. Strange how someone so austere, cold, someone she was sure she would never speak to ordinarily, had made her feel safe.

"I thought you might like this," he said, holding the mug out towards her. "Also, you had a visitor this morning; he's waiting in the kitchen for you."

Nick, thought Cecilia, turning towards the stairs. She relieved Snape of the mug of tea, which looked a bit greyish.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip. It was horrible, and she suspected that he had taken her at her word and tried to make the tea without using magic. "Did you sleep well?"

"Adequately", replied Snape, nodding slightly.

"When did he arrive?" she continued

"A couple of hours ago, about half six. He was surprised to see me," replied Snape.

Cecilia began to head towards the stairs.

"I must warn you though…" he continued, as she turned the corner into the kitchen. He didn't get to finish the sentence – Cecilia gasped as she saw Nick inanimate, as if half way through a discussion.

"I am sure you can understand…" continued Snape. "He cannot know of me being here. Not only for the sake of wizards," he added, "but for your safety."

He needn't have worried though; Cecilia's mouth transformed into a grin, and she giggled a bit. Nick looked at her, his mouth just slightly ajar, and his arm raised in a fixed gesture and his leg half-raised.

"If only he could see himself," she chuckled. "And know why. He'd find it hilarious!" She stepped over towards her ex-colleague and friend and waved her hand before his eyes. She turned back towards Snape.

"Can you undo it? He's going to be OK, isn't he?"

"I will remove the Immobilus charm when you're ready," said Snape, a little confused at her finding the situation amusing. "He won't remember anything of the last two hours, and will believe he's only just arrived."

Cecilia nodded, and Snape waved his hand.

"Immobilus Sansore" he intoned, then turned. "I'll make myself scarce."

"OK, see you," said Cecilia, without turning round. She watched as Nick's face began slowly to become animate: his features began to move, as if they were unfreezing; his limbs began to take the step he had been making before Snape had made him immobile.

It took Cecilia some effort to move to the other side of the kitchen, and begin preparing breakfast.

"Oh," said Nick, when he had finally become animate again. "What was I saying?" he stared at the doorway, and blinked. The he looked round the kitchen and spotted Cecilia.

"Who was that?" said Nick, blinking.

"Who was who?" she said, with her back to him; she was trying to suppress a big grin.

"The man who…" he blinked again, as if he was trying to remember something.

"Don't know what you mean," said Cecilia, turning towards him holding two slices of bread. "I was just going to ask you whether you wanted brown or white toast with your eggs."

Twenty minutes later, they'd finished breakfast. He'd mentioned her leaving for London, trying to convince her to stay and go back to work with him at the lab.

She'd laughed but was firm, and told him so. As she cleared away the breakfast things, she thanked him for the glassware.

"How much do I owe you?" she said. "Must be a good couple of hundred quid's worth here."

"Nah, forget it," sad Nick, standing up. "Most of it's contraband anyway!" He winked at her, knowingly.

"Micro?" she asked.

"Yep," he said happily, running the tap.

"Leave it," she said. "It'll give Amy something to do after I go." She turned, and noticed his crestfallen face.

"I'll be fine, honestly," she said, smiling kindly. "Amy's got my contact address, and as soon as I'm back up, I'll pop in." Nevertheless when she hugged him reassuringly, a little tinge of sadness entered her stomach. Despite reasoning out to herself that going off with Snape and entering the wizarding world was what she needed, she was still going to miss the big soft bugger.

A few minutes later, having seen him off at the door, she wondered what Snape had done with himself.

"Nick's gone now," she called, trying to locate him. When he didn't answer immediately, she continued, "Severus? You OK?" He opened the living room door, looking stony faced, and she looked past him at her gas fire, which was emanating emerald-green flames.

"What the…" she started. Then she noticed a head in the flames. It was Professor Dumbledore. He was smiling, and gave her a little wink when she drew nearer.

"How did you…" she began, looking between Dumbledore's head and Snape.

"The Floo network", replied Snape, simply. "Just one of the methods we have for communicating amongst ourselves. I had your chimney set up last night."

"Professor Snape was just filling me in on the details of last night," said Dumbledore's green head. "I understand that you are feeling fine now". Cecilia lowered herself to a sitting position, cross-legged in front of Dumbledore.

"Yes, Professor. Professor Snape kindly helped to rectify the damage done." She glanced back at Snape, and smiled. "I am glad he was here last night, to be honest." Dumbledore smiled kindly.

"I also understand he informed you of more details of your research," continued Dumbledore. "I was intending to reveal this information to you today, when you arrived at Hogwarts, but now at least you have a head start."

"Hogwarts? Won't I be returning to Grimmauld Place?" Of course not, you dope. Didn't he tell you that last night?

"That was my original intention, yes. I had intended that Remus Lupin give you something that would help. But I understand he gave that to you yesterday."

"Mysterious Mythology, that's right. But Professor Snape said that was the reason for the break-in. That dark wizards were looking for the book?" Cecilia did not mention the other possibility she had hears Snape and Moody talking about as another possible candidate for the break in, turned to look at Snape again. His face was impassive.

"We cannot be certain, but it seems that the book was their intended target. Professor Snape tells me that you had the foresight to keep it with you. Had this book been taken by the enemy, Cecilia, be under no illusion that it would have been particularly damaging to our cause."

"May I ask you something, Professor?"

"But of course."

"Professor Snape mentioned a boy, a young man who would be the object of our research. The way professor Snape described it, it sounded so radical…we're to remove his powers?" Snape shifted on the spot uncomfortably.

"That is partially true," conceded Dumbledore, "but not in the sense you mean. The boy in question was attacked by a dark wizard, the most powerful of all. I'll explain more to you when you arrive." Dumbledore then turned his head towards Snape.

"I think that's everything, Severus," he said. "I'll let you go." He turned back to Cecilia.

"I'll see you when you get to Hogwarts," he said, and in an instant, the green flame along with Dumbledore's head, vanished. Cecilia got up from the floor. She realised she was still in her pyjamas and dressing gown – not the best look to have when you're speaking to your boss.

"I'll just go and get ready," she said. "Is it far? How long will it take to get there?

"Take your time," replied Snape. "I'll organise for your belongings to be sent on ahead."

"They're in the bedroom," said Cecilia. "When I've had a shower, I'll show you. You could star on the glassware." She glanced at the clock on the video: 10.24.

"Will I need to bring anything specific? I've sorted some books out upstairs too."

"You don't need much; Hogwarts has everything you'll need."

A quarter of an hour later, Cecilia wandered back to her room, wrapped up in her towel. Her vision was fuzzy as she'd left her spectacles in the shower. She went to her bedside cabinet and retrieved her spare pair, gasping in surprise when she saw Snape standing in the corner of the room.

"Excuse me," said Snape. "I just sent your things on." She glanced at the open wardrobe, which was half-empty. She tried not to think about him seeing her underwear.

"Oh," she said, trying to remain calm. She was standing here wearing only a dressing gown. Just don't think about it, she told herself.

"Thank you," she said, with as much dignity as she could muster. "If you don't mind, I'll just get dressed, and then we can be off."

"Of course," he replied, and left, closing the door behind her. She looked what remained in the wardrobe and considering the few options left as far as the choice of clothes for the day. Eventually she chose a hideous lemon sun-dress and matching cardigan her mother had bought for her. It was either that or too-small jeans and her BROS t-shirt.

"How are we getting there," asked Cecilia, when she was finally ready. "Train? Or are you going to…you know.." and demonstrated Mr Weasley's gesture of a couple of days ago, by clicking her fingers. She thought she'd change the topic of conversation when she'd noticed Snape's look when he saw what she was wearing.

"Apparition? No, we can't do that. At least you can't, your bodies cannot withstand it. The effects of apparating muggles are...not pleasant", he concluded. "Besides which, people cannot apparate into Hogwarts. We're travelling by Floo."

"Flew?"

"No, Floo," he corrected.

"And my belongings?"

"Already there. As I said, it's just people who can't apparate into Hogwarts." he said, taking her hand. "I disapparated them earlier". He led her over to in front of the fireplace, and she began to feel nervous. What _was_ Floo?

Snape removed a box of what looked like ash; it had a metallic green tinge to it. He threw it towards Cecilia's gas fire and said, "Hogwarts". She held his hand a little tighter as she felt a sensation not dissimilar to pins and needles creep up her legs. Then she noticed the room fade around her and a "pop".

Cecilia felt like she had been dissected into very thin sheets. It was as if she had been stretched infinitely between her house and their destination, like a concertina. A couple of seconds later, still holding onto Snape's hand, they stood on the flagstones of an enormous hearth. Snape began to walk forward, trying to lead her, but she released his hand and swayed slightly, as if she was waiting for part of her body to catch up with her.

"Travel sickness, " said Snape. "It'll pass in a few minutes." He walked off up a small set of stairs at the far centre of the room.

Cecilia looked round. The hearth was part of a huge fireplace that stood against one wall of the room. The room was cold, almost like a crypt. Thin light from the windows permeated the gloom but the main light source where the huge candles on the walls. Cecilia shivered. It seemed quite creepy. Was she really expected to work down here?

She sat down on one of the benches in front of her, and felt a little less light-headed.

This is where you work then, she thought to herself. She surveyed the room again: on the far wall next to the small window was a bookshelf piled high from floor to ceiling. Its shelves were overflowing with books; a parchment poked out between them here and there, and there was too much for the shelves to accommodate. Odd ones were piled up on top of the others.

Adjacent to the bookshelf were a set of steps that Snape had just used, and next to that was a large table, like a lectern. I don't know if I could teach in a place like this, thought Cecilia, but then chided herself: this was a whole new world. Her experience of teaching just wasn't valid any more.

"Severus?" she called. Where had he gone? Suddenly, her mind was filled with a sense of unease. Grimmauld Place had been full of magical mysteries, wonders, like a sweet shop when you're five. It was still within her frame of reference: a house in a London street. Here she was now in a castle where young witches and wizards were educated to be better at magic, and it was turning out to be a bit of a shock, and she felt a little out of her depth.

When he hadn't returned a few moments later, Cecilia braved crossing the large flagstones. Carefully, she walked up the small stone stairs and peered around the door, expecting to find him there. But he wasn't. What she found inside was a small study-like office, with shelves lining one wall full of ingredients neatly labelled. On the other were some much larger books, and in the centre of the room was another large fireplace. She turned to go, thinking she would just wait for him there and headed back down the steps.

"Who is this lady here in the defense dungeon?" A small squeaky voice addressed her and made her jump, so much so that she nearly lost her footing, and had to steady herself o the wide stone handrail to prevent herself from falling over.

Cecilia looked round to find a small…well…creature standing in front of her. He, well she assumed it was a he, was wearing a pair of burgundy dungarees and a thick double-knit top on underneath which made the straps bulge out.

On his head he was wearing two hats: a bobble hat and a beret over the top, and he was wearing odd socks. His nose was long and pointy, and he had large green ears, currently being flattened by his wearing of two hats.

"Hello?" she asked, questioningly. Cecilia felt a little apprehensive, despite a part of her brain telling her that something dressed in such a comical manner couldn't possibly harmful.

"Hello yourself, lady," he smiled, then frowned slightly. "Are you lost?"

Cecilia laughed a little, more out of relief than anything. "Actually I am. I'm looking for Professor Snape. Do you know where he is?"

At that question the little thing jumped and gave a whimper. "You must be indeed a powerful witch if you are looking for him." He moved a little bit closer to Cecilia and raised an eyebrow. "Are you powerful?"

"Not at all," said Cecilia, smiling. "I'm a muggle, with no wizard powers."

"A muggle?" squeaked the creature. He seemed to be happy with this outcome and expressed it by hopping from one foot to another, jumping on and off the student benches. "Oh, Dobby is happy, lady. Dobby does not like wizards who are too powerful," and raised his eyebrows, knowingly.

"Hello Dobby," said Cecilia, determined to bring some order. "I'm Cecilia Frobisher. Pleased to meet you." She held out her hand. Dobby looked between her and her hand, uncertainly. She lowered it.

"Professor Snape," she continued, "If he's not here, do you know where I might find him?"

"Here," said Snape, as he entered the dungeon from a door on the far side of the dungeon. "I was ensuring that your room was ready." He turned his gaze to Dobby, who was whimpering "But for some reason," his voice was icy, rising in volume at every word, "it is not." The last few words reverberated round the dungeon for a few seconds.

Dobby glanced at Cecilia with a look of terror, and scuttled out of the door squeaking to himself, Snape eyeing his wake. Then he turned back to Cecilia.

"Hogwarts," he intoned. "Professor Dumbledore is expecting us," turning back towards the door. "If you would come with me Cecilia, we'll go there now."

"What was that, that creature?" asked Cecilia, following Snape out of the dark dungeon, into the considerably more pleasant environment of the corridor.

"A house elf," said Snape, sourly. "The most worthless magical entity you'll ever have the misfortune to come across. They have to be kept in their place or else chaos ensues." Cecilia smiled inwardly, recalling the sight of Dobby springing on and off the benches.

As they walked, Cecilia marvelled at the building. Its outer sandstone cladding was exposed here and there and where some had worn away, the granite underneath was exposed. Within minutes, they were crossing a courtyard into another part of the school; the tall towers looming high, the Gothic -style crenulations outlined against the bright summer's sky. They crossed into another building, a high ceilinged hall whose front steps rose from the centre. She paused, marvelling.

"The castle has stood for over a thousand years." said Snape, who'd also stopped. "Impressive, isn't it?" Cecilia nodded. To her, Hogwarts appeared as an intricate picture, like a Lowry with his matchstick men; her mind just could not take in all of the castle's details at once.

"When you're ready," said Snape, a few minutes later, "we'll continue." Cecilia followed him up the wide entrance staircase; it was so wide that it could have accommodated a bus, lengthways.

The air was warm as they ascended to the first floor. Pictures covered the oak-panelled walls and she paused again, noticing that the pictures were animate: their subjects moved around within their frames, occupied with whatever scene activity their particular artist had painted for them. One or two of them stopped, acknowledging, smiling or occasionally waving to Cecilia as they passed.

Presently, they stopped at the end of the corridor. An arch loomed over them and within the arch was a large stone eagle, standing proud. Snape stepped forward next to the eagle, and Cecilia followed.

"Dragon's Wing," said Snape, and almost immediately a set of stone spiral stairs rose from the back of the eagle, as they ascended. When it stopped moving again, the entrance opened into a room, panelled with darker wood. Snape proceeded to the middle of the room and Cecilia followed, looking round.

The walls were covered in books and high shelves on her right contained strange objects: a small wooden box carved with sigils and stars; a cauldron, made out of a clear material. She scanned the shelves: bottles and pots of mysterious fluids and solids and on top of the nearest shelf, a rather battered black hat, crumpled at the middle, which had obviously seen better days.

In front of them was a large desk, its top inlaid with leather. And next to the desk was…a bird. It squawked quietly as Cecilia looked at him, and flexed its wings.

Just then, descending stairs from the raised floor at the back of the room, was Dumbledore. He smiled warmly at Cecilia.

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Cecilia," he said. Please, sit down." He gestured towards two chairs that had not been there a moment ago. Dumbledore sat on the chair before the desk.

"Now," he continued, as she sat. "I must apologise Cecilia for my seemingly cool reception towards you at Grimmauld Place. I trust by now you realise the reason for this. Professor Snape informed me of the events of last night and that you had the presence of mind to consider the significance of the book our dear friend Remus Lupin gave to you."

Cecilia was about to open her mouth to protest; she'd merely forgotten to take it out of her bag, but Dumbledore continued.

"That you have risen to this, having known about our world for less than a week, based on limited details I provided for you with an open mind is remarkable. It tells me that my judgement of choice of a muggle for this role, rather than a wizard, was reliable. I know many muggles, Cecilia, close friends indeed, and the attitude you have shown towards everything that has been presented to you and that you have encountered thus far does you, and indeed them, credit."

Cecilia smiled to herself. At last there was some hope. Before, Dumbledore had indeed come across as a nothing more than tolerant.

"It is heartening Cecilia, because of the nature of this work. You have witnessed yourself the effects of the dark magic through your own experience last night, and I have no doubt that had you been at home when the break-in took place that you would have been killed."

Cecilia said nothing, but glanced at Snape slightly, remembering the other option he had presented, someone on their side…

"Professor Snape is by far the most experienced wizard of our allegiance. His knowledge and depth of understanding of magic is a rare quality for which we are greatly indebted. I believe that through teaching one another your respective crafts will reveal threads which will combine to produce a grater mutual understanding."

"Professor," said Cecilia, waiting for him to finish. "Can you tell me some more about this boy, who you mentioned to earlier? You said he might be the key to it all."

"Certainly," said Dumbledore, and got to his feet. He began to pace.

"The boy in question, Harry, is currently a student at Hogwarts. As I recall saying, his parents were killed. They were killed by a wizard so great the world has barely seen his like in power before. At this time, his power, his reign of terror was at its height and, by his hand or at the hand of his followers many muggles and wizards died."

Dumbledore paused, and began to pace in the other direction.

"Severus, if you wish to leave Cecilia and I to talk about this alone, you may," said Dumbledore. Snape's face was like granite: expressionless.

"No, that won't be necessary," he said, half whispering. Cecilia noticed he had lowered his gaze towards the floor slightly. Dumbledore continued.

"Harry was only months old when the dark wizard found out where they were hiding. He murdered Harry's father outright, before he even had a chance to speak, then turned his attention to Harry."

Dumbledore sighed, and walked over to the phoenix, tickling him idly on the back of the head. It squawked, and belched a small jet of flame through its mouth. Dumbledore smiled at it affectionately as he extinguished his smouldering beard with one hand. He began to pace back up his office again.

"His mother begged him not to kill her son, so he murdered her there and then. He turned his attentions to Harry again, but the spell backfired, which all but reduced the wizard to nothing."

Dumbledore turned and faced Cecilia.

"What repelled him was the love of Harry's mother. It is this protection she gave to her son when she sacrificed herself, and the power that is keeping him, even now, from harm."

The space in her mind which Cecilia had kept open for this revelation was no where near sufficient. She wrinkled her brow as she tried to make sense of it all.

"You want us," she said, "to investigate…study…love? As a physical entity?"

"The love of which I speak has existed since the dawn of time, and this makes it powerful. Combined with the powers that the dark wizard unwittingly transferred to Harry it would, were he of age and have sufficient skill and experience, possibly ten years hence, be likely that he would be able to defeat him."

"However we do not have that time, we have barely enough time for you to investigate this yourself, but even now the world is on the edge of an evil which could, were the dark wizard to gain more followers and allies, bring about terrible harm and suffering. It is Harry's powers, Harry himself that I wish you to investigate, using the tools of muggle science. Only then will we have sufficient understanding and wisdom to create a weapon of such might that will be capable of destroying the dark wizard's power, so he will never rise again. "

Despite herself, Cecilia shuddered, trying to take it all in.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said eventually, "How many other muggles know about this? You mentioned the Prime Minister before, how he helped you recruit us. Is he aware of this?"

"Not in as much detail as I have revealed to you. However of the threat he is quite aware, and has, I believe, been involved in trying to protect muggles as much as possible. But, this is getting much harder, as the more followers the dark wizard accrues, the more muggle-baiting is taking place."

"Muggle -baiting? What do you mean?" asked Cecilia, hoping that what she thought Dumbledore meant wasn't related to the images she was trying to block out of her mind.

"The deliberate ensnaring of muggles." It wasn't Dumbledore who spoke now, it was Snape. "Followers of the Dark Lord catch muggles off guard. They take it in turns to torment them, torture them, and eventually kill them for their own amusement. Nothing invokes their mercy, neither age nor gender."

Cecilia turned round in horror to look at Snape, but he was now standing with his back towards them, arms folded and with his gaze firmly on the office door. She looked back at Dumbledore, hoping he would refute it.

"Regretfully, Severus is right. This is why you were afforded protection of the Order when you returned home which, as I am sure you can understand now, was necessary, and why it is far safer for you to work on this here, within the safety of Hogwarts. You may wander freely around the ground and first floor of castle and the grounds however, please stay to those areas; we cannot guarantee your safety if you do not."

"Certainly Professor," said Cecilia and, still shocked on hearing about muggle-baiting, continued, "What if whoever broke in at home returns? Do you have a telephone here, so I can call Amy, my sister? Make sure she is all right?"

"Tellyfone?" said Dumbledore, mulling over the word. "Ah yes, a device that muggles use so they can talk to one another. No, I'm afraid not, Cecilia, but I'll arrange for a member of the Order to visit your sister, to put your mind at rest."

Dumbledore stood up and smiled.

"I hope everything Professor Snape will show you your room, and the main part of the castle, " he concluded, nodding towards Snape, who had rejoined them. "There is no staff around, except for our caretaker and gamekeeper. You may tell them what you wish apart from the nature of your work. You may have access to anything you need, just ask either Professor Snape or myself." Cecilia noticed Snape's eyebrow incline ever so slightly. Dumbledore continued. "Meals are served in the great hall and I have informed the house elves of your presence."

"I met one of those," began Cecilia, thinking of Dobby, then gasped, concerned. "He seemed to get a bit agitated with my being there. I, er…mentioned I was a muggle and that I was working for you."

"Was the house elf wearing many clothes simultaneously?" Cecilia nodded.

"Dobby," said Dumbledore. "He is a free elf, working in Hogwarts under wage. Harry has his undying loyalty, so if he discovers that you are working with Harry too, you may be overwhelmed with help." He smiled again rising, and Snape returned to join them.

"If there are no more questions Cecilia, I will leave you in the capable hands of Professor Snape. I won't detain you; Professor Snape informs me that he is ready for you to begin work this evening."

He smiled at Cecilia again and turned away, climbing the stairs he'd originally descended. Cecilia watched him go, thinking how different he was, much kinder than her previous meetings.

"Shall we?" said Snape, gesturing towards the door. Cecilia turned to follow, and they did.

88888888


	8. Common Ground

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

Later that afternoon, after the tour of the castle had encompassed the student rooms and the grounds, Snape took her to a room in the teaching quarters which was to be hers for the time she was at Hogwarts. It was quite small, contained some basic furniture in it a bed, desk and wardrobe. There was a door at the other end which Cecilia opened, and discovered it led to a bathroom. Her belongings, which Snape had packed and sent on, were already unpacked into the wardrobe adjacent to the desk, and her glassware, books and reagents were in an alcove near the bed. The smell of pine, as if the room had been freshly cleaned, pervaded the air. She looked around at the room, her home for the near future, and felt a pang of unease and insecurity in the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Teachers tend to conjure their own personal possessions," said Snape, as she looked around the room. However, should there be anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask."

Cecilia had looked around and wondered how asking for her teddy bear here would go down. To say Snape had not been the friendliest of people up till then was an understatement, and since their meeting with Dumbledore that afternoon he had become colder still. Not well, she concluded.

Their tour took in the rest of the teacher's block; he pointed out his own room and that of the other professors, who were themselves on summer break. Just then, the head of Professor Binns had popped out of a door, scaring Cecilia half to death.

"Hello," he said, looking questioningly at Snape, "Who do we have here?"

"My assistant," he stated. The nerve, thought Cecilia.

"I stand corrected; there is another teacher here at present, Professor Binns."

"Delighted," said the ghost, sounding bored, stepping through the door. He was dressed in dark Victorian style clothes, and in his hand was a mortar board. Cecilia started to extend her hand, then withdrew it, thinking how foolish she must look trying to shake hands with someone whose body she could see the door through. She hoped neither of them had noticed.

"There are other ghosts in the castle, besides Professor Binns," said Snape, as they exited the teacher's quarters and headed back down the corridor. "Four of them represent each of the houses here at Hogwarts. You needn't be alarmed if they address you, " he added, glancing over to her. Cecilia said nothing, feeling slightly silly at trying to shake hands with a ghost.

Just then, a whooshing sound passed them overhead. Professor Binns pulled his spectral self back through the door.

"Wheeeeeeee!" exclaimed a voice. "Merry Midsummerrrrr! Mind where you tread!"

"Peeves!" shouted Snape, as they rounded the corner. He pulled up sharply to prevent them treading into the orange slime that covering the walls and floor. Cecilia had no time to react and bumped straight into him, hard. She grabbed him round the middle, before getting her balance.

"Stinksap slime," he said, getting out his wand. "Scourgify." He said, swishing his wand. Almost immediately, the corridor was clean.

"Dumbledore believes it is tradition for the poltergeist to remain," said Snape grimly, as they headed down the stairs. "If it were up to me however…" He stopped speaking, and walked on determinedly, quickening his pace.

Cecilia recognised the corridor, outside the room where they had appeared a few hours previously. The door they had left through had a sign, stencilled in neat copperplate writing, "Defence." What sort of defence? wondered Cecilia.

"You may use any of the items in these rooms," he said, coldly, gesturing to the doors as they passed. "The library is round the corner. It is open to teachers at any time, however you may need the help of Madam Pince for books in the restricted section. If you value your life, that is," he added, with the hint of a sneer. Cecilia simply nodded. There would be a time to address their working relationship, but now wasn't it.

She followed Snape past the door, and noticed other doors. They were similar to the defence door; thick brown beams treated with caustic solution, and all stencilled with the name of the lesson taught therein: arithmancy; transfiguration; potions.

He stopped at "potions" and entered. Cecilia followed, entering a room which was, like the "defence" room, dungeon-like. It had a bookshelf stuffed full on the far wall, adjacent to a set of stairs rising to a door. The room was windowless, and the light, flickering from shrouded beacons on the wall, cast long shadows against the wall. Low cupboards lined one side and were labelled: cauldrons; trivets; tripods. Above were shelves containing ingredients: twig-like substances resided in small clear jars, each stencilled with names such as asphodel and pomegranate root.

Adjacent to them was a shelf of liquids, some clear, others just this side of volatility. She approached them with interest, and watched small bubbles rise and burst in a purple solution labelled "Solis Aquaregia". Books sat at some of the ends and Cecilia read the titles: A Beginner's Guide to Potion Making; Applied Synthesis and Potions – a Guide; the Standard Book of Spells 1.

"Basic potionmaking ingredients…books…" he said dismissively, leafing through a large, well-worn book on the desk. "Of no interest to you, I am sure."

"Why do you say that?" asked Cecilia. Of course they were of interest to her that was why she was here, wasn't it? And in any case, who wouldn't be interested in the contents of a potions room in a school that educated wizards and witches in magic. When he did not reply, she continued.

"I need to learn how magic works, if we are to make any sense of where science fits in." She walked over to him. Don't you understand that? she thought. Or perhaps you do, and are trying to put me in my place, she thought, recalling how arguing with him at Grimmauld Place hadn't worked.

"Do what you must," said Snape, still not looking at her. "But your physical state prevents you from achieving anything magical."

"My physical state?" she asked.

"You are a muggle," he said, looking at her, his grey-blue eyes shimmering. Cecilia breathed, trying to maintain calm and sat down at one of the wooden desks in front of Snape.

"So, how do you propose we begin?" she said, a few moments later. He was still looking through the book in front of him.

"I'd have thought that was obvious," he said slowly, glancing up and eyeing Cecilia. She stared back at him. How was it obvious? she thought.

"You are going to have to teach me some magic," she said carefully, hoping it was the right thing to say.

"Of course not," he said, a note of triumph ringing in his voice. "I will go through the theory, and you will listen. You are mistaken however, if you think that I can teach you magic of any kind."

"But…" she began, but he cut her off. He strode towards her and towered over where she was sitting.

"Listen to what I have to say, do not question it," he said, staring her down.

"How can I not question it? That is the point of research." Cecilia was on her feet now, their faces inches apart.

"You have the effrontery question my judgment?" he hissed. "You know nothing about what we are facing." His stare was icy, but Cecilia was determined not to look away. If she did, she knew it would be lost.

"I know about research," she replied, as calmly as she could manage. "We have to discuss why things happen in order to progress." There, she thought. Whatever happened next, were he to leave or turn her into a candlestick, she'd had her say. To her astonishment, however, he stepped away from her, and stood back behind the desk.

"If you sit, then I can begin," he said, with a tone of calm indifference, returning to the book. Cecilia exhaled, trying to steady her nerves. Bathsheba had been right, she thought, he is forbidding. Despite her usual way of clearing the air being to discuss the issue, she did what he said, and waited. Five minutes passed.

"I will show you how magic is done," said Snape, eventually, inclining his head towards the wall where the exotic ingredients Cecilia had been perusing a few moments before were stored. They landed on the desk before him.

"These are the tools of the potion-maker. To the untrained eye they are roots, stems, elixirs, tinctures. But when we make potions, the subtle art of the potion-maker is brought forth."

He waved his wand. A cauldron appeared on the desk before her.

"But…" began Cecilia, but a look silenced her.

"There will be silence," he said, before waving his wand again. "Camomile and cherry wood," he said, motioning towards the ingredients, before taking a flat-bladed knife out of the desk drawer. He crushed the bark with the handle and proceeded to slice the wood segments into smaller pieces.

This is too fast, she thought. How am I ever going to get to the bottom of this if he won't explain anything? She reached into her pocket for her notebook, and began to scribble down what he was saying.

"If to wish me to treat you like a child, I will do so," he snarled, pausing in his monologue. "Stilus Leviosa" he said, and Cecilia's pen began to float out of her hand, landing on the desk in front of him.

"You're not explaining what you are doing," she said, raising her voice slightly. "I can see what it is you're doing, but I don't understand." Instead of replying, Snape put down the knife and wood onto the desk in front of him.

"Scourgis Linum" he said, and the ingredients disappeared. "Let us get one thing clear," he hissed, towering over Cecilia again. "Your ignorance is your weakness. You do not have the capability to understand what constitutes magic. Do you really think I would willingly choose to associate with people as dim-witted as you? However I do what I must, and in order for me to do that you will therefore remain SILENT, and listen to what I have to say."

He strode back over to the desk and started to leaf through the book again. Cecilia remained at the bench, mouth open. She didn't know what to do. Were she in a lab, at home, she would undoubtedly have left. However, she was sitting in the classroom in a castle which was used to educate wizards in magic, and she didn't have the first idea what she should do. Her mind racing, she remained where she was.

Eventually, Snape stopped shuffling through the book, and began again by magicking the same ingredients, cauldron and knife onto the desk.

"These are the tools of the potion-maker. To the untrained eye they are roots, stems, elixirs, tinctures. But when we make potions, the subtle art of the potion-maker is brought forth."

And so it continued for the next two hours. Snape spoke about the cauldron, the correct thickness in order for the optimum effective potion to be made. Every time she stopped to question him, he ignored her, and continued. He showed her different preparation techniques; explained the difference between wormwood and dried toad skin; discussed the advantages and disadvantages of crow feather over raven in treating voiceless curses. Cecilia just sat there, trying to follow what he was saying, but feeling hopeless about magic, worse than before he'd started.

Eventually he stopped speaking, and closed his book. He magicked away everything that was on the desk. Cecilia wondered whether she should try to discuss what had happened.

"Tomorrow, arrive here at seven. We will continue then," he said simply, before she'd made up her mind what to say, and strode out of the room, leaving Cecilia alone.

She got to her feet and walked round the room, contemplating the last couple of hours. How could anyone be like that? she thought looking round the room. What use was all that? I still don't know anything about magic, probably less now. And if I can't do it anyway, what is the point?

She felt quite lost, wondering what she should do. If she'd been at home, she would have gone back to the foundations of the premise that someone was trying to explain to her and work at it herself. She would have called Alison or Nick, had a chat, and tried to iron out the problem. But what could she do here? The person she was supposed to be working with was impossible, and the premise, well! That's what they were supposed to be here for.

Cecilia sighed, and went over the events of the last few days. She wondered whether she would ever feel comfortable working like this, especially with a colleague like Snape. Would it be better if she went to Dumbledore and told him she couldn't do this? At least he could find someone else to replace her.

Just then, the book Snape had been using caught her eye. Its dog-eared cover betrayed its purpose and the writing on the front cover was worn away. She crossed to the desk and opened it up randomly and read the chapter heading: "Intermediate potions for fourth year students", and detailed what looked to be a quite complicated recipe on the making.

Cecilia turned it to the contents page and scanned it. The first chapter was entitled, "Basic potion-making for first years", which began on page five so she thumbed to that page. The first half of the page contained schematic drawings of the equipment Snape had been using, neatly labelled. Underneath the chapter text began, and Cecilia read the first paragraph.

"These are the tools of the potion-maker. To the untrained eye they are roots, stems, elixirs, tinctures. But when we make potions, the subtle art of the potion-maker is brought forth..."

She read the paragraph again, and laughed out loud, covering her must slightly to hide her grin. So he was treating her like a first year student, she thought and wondered how so many survived to become older students with teaching like that!

Cecilia picked up the book off the desk and sat down again on the bench, folding her legs under her and continued to read. Forty pages in, and she reached the point where Snape had finished.

I still don't understand it, she thought to herself, returning the book to the desk. But I don't know how he thinks I'm going to be able to without at least trying it out.

But how? Cecilia thought back to what Snape had said about continuing the next day. He said 7 o'clock. So, that gives me the whole day to come back and have a look at these things, she thought, surveying the shelves of ingredients.

Pleased that she'd made a decision about how she would proceed, she left the room. She felt quite hungry, and realised she hadn't had anything to eat since dinner. The great hall, she thought. That's where Dumbledore said meals were served. She turned right and began to proceed down the corridor.

As she walked, the corridor seemed to Cecilia to narrow and the ceiling become lower. She turned a corner and saw some steps ahead of her which she didn't recognise. I've gone the wrong way, she thought, and went to turn back, and felt something brush past her leg. She looked down and saw a tatty old tabby cat interweaving between her ankles.

"Hello," she said to it, and bent down to tickle it behind the ears. "Where did you come from?" The cat began to purr, and brushed its head against her hand.

"Yes, that's nice, isn't it?" she said to the cat, as it continued to rub against her hand. Then, out of the corner of her eye she noticed a figure coming towards her. She stood up and watched the figure approach.

"So," he said with a twisted grimace, "Mrs Norris found an intruder", he eyed Cecilia with suspicion. Cecilia was about to crouch fuss the cat again, who was headbutting her legs, when he shouted, "don't move, unless you wish me to fetch the headmaster."

Cecilia opened her mouth to speak. "Don't say anything." He glanced at the cat, "We've caught another one, Mrs Norris we have." The he stared back at Cecilia. "Explain what you are doing here, and the headmaster _might_ not have you put to death for being an intruder."

She opened her mouth to speak, but paused. How was she supposed to not say anything and explain why she was there? What had she got to lose if she voiced that last thought? She did so, and waited for the fallout.

"Oh, think we're clever eh Mrs Norris? I expect this intruder doesn't realise the caretaker of the school has the right to imprison intruders in the dungeon."

"Now, just hold on a minute.", she said. "I'm here working for Professor Dumbledore, so I really don't think he'll want to put me to death this time. By all means fetch him, though," she added, as the man eyed her again.

"What you doing here then, if you working for the headmaster?"

Cecilia paused. "I'm working with Professor Snape," she said. "However the work is confidential." He continue to stare at her, and Cecilia watched as a wave of realisation washed over his face.

"You're the muggle, what the headmaster told me about," he said, then his face clouded over again. "What you doing down here? You ain't allowed down here, only the classrooms and the Great Hall, he said."

"I got lost," said Cecilia, sighing. "I arrived today, and I'm not sure which way the Great Hall is." She looked earnestly at the man and pleading clemency, continued, "I can see you're very important, to know who I am. Do you think you could show me how to get there?" He looked at her again, frowning, then brightened again, as if he'd come to a decision.

"Well, Mrs Norris seems ter have taken a liking to you, and she is very choosy, is Mrs Norris, very choosy. So I'm going to trust her say-so," he said happily to the cat, tickling her round the chin. "This way."

They went past the classrooms she had passed earlier that evening and progressed out into the courtyard. Mrs Norris followed them, trotting behind the caretaker. They entered the large front of the castle, with the wide, imposing staircase before them which she knew led to her room, and she followed him round to the back of it. Before them was a huge door which towered over them, picked with metal studs and as they approached the doors swung open of its own accord.

She walked in, awestruck. Above five huge wooden benches were suspended candles. No, not suspended as there was no ceiling from which they could be. The ceiling was actually the evening sky; the light dimming to the west as the dusk began to settle in. She was so busy looking up that she banged clumsily into one of the tables.

"The Great Hall," said the caretaker, staring at her again. "If you get lost again muggle, you can find my office is on the second floor.

"Thank you sir," she said, as though she had learned her lesson, "although I'll try not to get lost again." With one last look over his shoulder, probably to make sure she really wasn't an intruder, he left her alone. Cecilia cringed inwardly at the cowardly tactic she had just used, and gazed round.

So, this was the Great Hall. It really was great, she thought, it was huge. She doubted whether she had seen anything so big, and so high. But then, how many ceilingless rooms had she seen before? Her stomach rumbled quietly, distracting Cecilia from her thoughts, and reminded of her why she was here.

She looked around, wondering what she should do. There was no-one else there at all, so she walked to the front of the hall. There was a set of three steps which led to a large table at the top so she climbed them gingerly.

"Hello?" she called, hoping someone would appear. When no-one did, she scanned the hall from the top step, surveying it. This was the Great Hall then, she thought, as the school clock chimed ten. This was where Dumbledore said to come for dinner, wasn't it? Cecilia said to herself, as she replayed the conversation in her mind.

She looked round again, but still nothing, so she made her way back out of the hall, and up the large staircase. As she rounded the corner onto the first floor, the lion in the picture at the top growled loudly, making Cecilia jump and grab onto handrail to steadying herself. A few moments later she regained composure and continued up the stairs to her room.

Closing the door behind her, she stood with her back to it, holding the handle, and breathed a long sigh, considering everything that had happened that day. She still couldn't quite believe that she was even in a place like this; that she had gone twenty odd years of her life without knowing about people like this, to whom magic was their life.

Looking round the room, she considered what to do, and she considered going to Snape's room to speak to him. Then she recalled his manner that evening and decided against it. Her eye caught the door to the bathroom, and she thought about how lovely it would be to have a soak in such a size bath.

She paced across the room, throwing down her cardigan on the bed and kicking off her shoes as she passed, and entered the bathroom. The air felt much warmer there and she took in the sink and huge bath sunk into the floor like a swimming pool. Across from her was another door to the loo. Idly she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, as she looked for the bath taps.

"I've seen you looking better," her reflection said back. "And I'd lose the dress."

"I intend to," replied Cecilia, unbuttoning it and letting it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it, and went to the edge of the bath, looking for a way to fill it with hot water. After ten minutes of searching, looking inside the bath itself and on the walls, she resorted to a strip wash over the sink, thanking her lucky stars that she'd brought some shower gel and a flannel.

An even more crestfallen Cecilia returned to her bedroom, which was cold underfoot and in the air, and tried to settle down for some sleep. She tried cuddling up with the pillow round her, and had dressed in more clothing, but her hands and feet were still freezing after an hour.

I can't take much more of this, she thought, maybe he's right, perhaps I can't cope with this because I'm a muggle, all these things aren't working because I can't do magic. No, said another voice in her head, remember what Professor Dumbledore said. And besides, she said, getting back up, the fire could still be lit as long as she found something non-magical to burn.

Cecilia got out of bed, the covers still wrapped round her, and headed for the science journals she had packed. These would do, she thought, smiling to herself at the expression on her boss's face were he to see her set fire to such a stack. She felt in her lab coat pocket and pulled out a lighter, and crossed to the large fireplace, tearing the journals up into shreds.

Kneeling down by the hearth, she flicked the flint. The lighter sparked, and she smiled at the anticipation of the warmth that would come from the journals, and the satisfaction that they had been sacrificed for a good cause. Her eye was caught by a flicker of green flashing into existence at the centre of the hearth, but Cecilia put it down to her imagination.

Just as she got one of the corners to light, a great whooshing sound came from the chimney accompanied by a rush of air.

Cecilia fell backwards in alarm and landed on her back. A ghostly face, body clad in seventeenth century clothing hovered over her.

"Dooo youuu mindddd," warbled the ghost, "Soommmee of usss wereeee trrryingggg to sleep!" and with that, it rushed back up the chimney again. Cecilia watched it go with feelings of frustration and bewilderment.

She stood back up and, still wrapped up in the covers, sank onto the bed, covering face with her hand. Why on earth had she ever thought she could handle this? What possessed her to say yes? She really must need her head looking at, she told herself sternly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

What would Dumbledore say, though, if she went to him tomorrow to quit? He'd said this afternoon that there was barely enough time as it was. And anyway, are you really going to let someone like Professor Snape get to you? She sat back up on the bed; her legs folded under her.

I'll speak to someone tomorrow, she thought. But how on earth am I going to get some rest? There was no chance she was going to be able to sleep in such a cold room, especially now she knew there was a ghost inhabiting the chimney. A sob left her, and she covered her mouth, wiping away tears which, unbidden, would not stop flowing.

Eventually she composed herself and, getting to her feet, she changed into jeans and a jumper, and pulled on a pair of old trainers. Opening the door, she headed back out onto the teacher's corridor and, having no idea where she wanted to go (and frankly not caring) she turned in the direction of the huge staircase.

As she descended Cecilia noticed a door to the left of the main castle door. It was slightly ajar, and there seemed to be a glow coming from it.

Beguiled by the light, she neared, and heard to her astonishment, singing. She peered round the door, and saw a set of spiral stairs descending below ground level and before she realised what she was doing, she proceeded down. It was much warmer here, and the light she had seen at the top of the stairs opened out from a wide archway into a huge expanse. Cecilia looked in the direction of the singing and saw creatures like Dobby, who were scuttling round.

They weren't exactly like Dobby, however, their nose and ear shapes were similar, but they were dressed in old rags, and had bare feet. Some were carrying piles of washing, others large pots that they were placing on ranges at the back of the room.

Cecilia watched them, transfixed as they scuttled around. It wasn't until she noticed the singing stop that she realised many eyes were upon her.

"Hello," she said uncertainly, as the house-elves stared at her. None of them spoke for a minute, and she wondered what to do next.

"Who are you?" asked one nearest to her. The others all watched her intently, waiting for something to happen.

"Cecilia," she said, hoping she sounded friendly, and was nearly bowled over by Dobby, who came springing out of the darkness.

"Lady!" he yelled, a huge grin on his face.

On seeing Dobby greet the stranger the other house-elves recommenced their work, presumably considering that if Dobby knew this stranger then they wanted nothing to do with her, and they began to sing again.

"Lady, we could not find you at dinner. We thought something terrible had happened! With…er…with…" he added, looking from right to left nervously.

"I'm fine," she said, fighting back the urge to cry again. Dobby looked at her face.

"You is the same as Dobby," he said kindly, "Wizards think of muggles as they think of house elves. Worthless," he added.

"You work down here?" asked Cecilia, changing the subject and sitting down on the last step of the staircase. "What is it you do?"

"We's work for the headmaster," said Dobby fervently. "We serve the castle. But I is freed, Freed!" he exclaimed, outstretching his arms in glee.

"What sort of work?" she asked curiously, glancing round at the house-elves again.

"All sorts! Come, I'll show lady," said Dobby, pulling at her arm. She got up wearily, and followed him. As they toured the kitchen he showed her the washing and ironing, the repairing of furniture and rebinding of library books. They got to a small alcove where a house-elf was clicking its fingers removing the bent hob-nails from a boot, and flashing a small bolt of light towards a nailless one, fishing the sole back to the upper.

He told Cecilia how he came to be free; that Harry Potter had tricked his master into freeing him, and how wonderful and powerful Harry Potter was. When mentioned that she was going to work with Harry the little elf's face lit up like a Christmas Tree, and he hugged her tight round the waist.

After she had brushed him off, he showed her the cooking ranges.

"The house-elves make the meals for all of the people in the castle," said Dobby, "but we are quiet in the kitchen at the moment. Cecilia sighed, inhaling the beautiful cooking smells and her stomach growled.

"Do you think…" she broached carefully as Dobby magicked a peeler and began to skin the potatoes, "That I could have something to eat?"

"Why of course lady, anything you wish for Lady who will work with Harry Potter, and Dobby will get it for you," and he clicked his fingers. A plate of cooked vegetables and rice appeared on the serving table next to her and he clicked his fingers again and a chair appeared next to it.

"Oh Dobby," she said, sitting down before the food and proceeded to tell him about how horrible her day had been. Once she had finished she felt much better and tucked into the meal. It was heavenly, and it made her think of the wonderful food Tim used to cook for them, when they were married.

When she had finished, Dobby tugged at her arm.

"Come Lady," he said, dragging her towards the door. Cecilia followed him all the way back to her room. He clicked his fingers and to her astonishment the fire was lit, glowing a toasty orange, and irradiating the room with its glorious heat.

"Lady," said Dobby, gesturing towards the bathroom and as she watched, Dobby clicked his fingers and the bath slowly filled with water from the bottom up; the froth from her bubble bath overflowed onto the floor slightly.

"I hopes this will make Lady feel happier," said Dobby, watching her bemused face.

"Thank you Dobby, I am much happier now" she said, smiling at him. He clicked his fingers again and disapparated.

Pulling off her clothes for the second time, she sat on the side of the bath. The water felt beautiful against her skin and as she slowly slipped in, it seemed to Cecilia that it was washing away her worries too.

When she awoke next morning, she was startled to see Dobby sitting on the desk. She blinked a few times, and slowly the memories of the previous day flooded back into her conscious mind.

"Hello Dobby, how long have you been waiting there?" she asked sleepily.

"Dobby is waiting here since the mail arrived," he said, and held out an envelope. She took it, thanking him, and he sat watching her intently.

'Mrs Cecilia Frobisher,' she read, looking at the beautiful scripting, 'Eighth Room On The Right, The Teachers Corridor, First Floor, Hogwarts Castle, Northumberland, England,' She turned it over she put her finger under the edge of it, and noticed it was sealed with a blob of wax.

It was from Tonks. She had been to check on Amy, and everything was fine. There was also an invitation asking Cecilia to join Tonks, the Weasley family and the children in three weeks' time to go shopping. Shopping, thought Cecilia, that sounded good, and wondered how she was supposed to reply to Tonks when she hadn't provided an address. She was about to mention this to Dobby, but as she put the letter down, he spoke.

"Dobby thinks that Lady would like breakfast now," said Dobby earnestly, "if Lady would like to come to the Great Hall."

"That sounds lovely, Dobby, "she said, smiling at him. He disapparated.

After breakfast, where she was waited on by a host of house-elves, she returned to her room and collected the glassware and books she wanted in order to start analysing the ingredients in the potions classroom. Gone were her feelings of unease and upset, and she packed what she needed and headed out over the courtyard and into the teaching area of the castle.

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Cecilia spent the next week working thus: In the mornings she went to the potions room and proceeded to systematically test the ingredients labelled on the shelves. She recorded everything; physical properties, size, shape and, when she found a rather obnoxious green substance lurking in a metalised container, storage conditions.

By around 6 o'clock, she would return her equipment to her room and meet Snape back in the classroom where she would spend two hours in silence listening to him describe the potions ingredients, their properties and applications.

Such descriptions were interspersed with barbed derision of her, and it was these that spurred her on; by the time Snape had departed at around 9pm, her mind was buzzing with the next experiment she would carry out the following day. She would then return to the Great Hall where Dobby would be buzzing about her.

Some evenings Cecilia spent in the kitchen with the house-elves. Gradually some of them spoke to her, though one or two did not. She discovered that the elves had to do many of the tasks by hand as a symbol of the house-elves' status below wizards. They and were astonished one evening when Cecilia began to help with their tasks, some even displaying hostility until Dobby proclaimed her equal to them, as a muggle, under wizards.

When she did not visit the kitchen Cecilia would proceed to the library to cross-reference observations she had made or check information. The information she had gathered either by experiment or theory she used to create diagrams of interlinking factors between magic and science.

She learned about a sport that was played on broomsticks by the students, and that there were four different houses in the school. She had even managed to send a reply to Tonks, and spent an interesting morning sending said letter by owl, Dobby ever-willing to help her if she asked, especially if it meant he could talk about his favourite subject, Harry Potter.

It had not escaped her notice however that she would have to tell Snape about what she had been doing, one way or another. She wondered how she would tell him, and what his reaction would be, but the events one morning ten days after her arrival at Hogwarts took it out of her hands.

Carrying some glassware down the teachers' corridor Cecilia remembered she had not picked up her notebook. She left the box of flasks at the top of the stairs, went to get it, but it wasn't where she left it, on her desk.

She returned to the box of glassware at the top of the stairs, thinking she may have slipped it down the side, but no, so she proceeded with it to the potions classroom. The door was ajar, so she pushed it open with her bum, while still holding the box and came face to face with Snape.

In fright, she dropped the box, and a few hundred pounds of grade A smashed to smithereens in front of her. He glared at with anger, and strode over to her.

"So," he said, his face inches from her. "This is what you are doing when you are not at my class," he growled. Cecilia shivered in shock.

"How _DARE_ you…" he hissed, but Cecilia moved out of the way.

"How else could I have proceeded!" she shouted, defensively. "I tried to tell you weeks ago I couldn't understand what you were saying. But I worked on it myself, and I know I'm making progress."

"Why you…." he began, making towards her and backing her towards a wall

"Me what?" she said, determined to give as good as she got. "You should be happy that I took the trouble, otherwise we would be months at this and besides, I'm going to have to start teaching you science."

He stopped and turned.

"You learned all this," he gestured to her lab book, "yourself?"

"Its not entirely learning, is it?" said Cecilia, relieved she actually survived, for now. "I just used my knowledge of unknowns and tested your ingredients. And read about them," she added.

"And you have the audacity to stand there in front of me and say that!" he shouted angrily, striding over to Cecilia. She tried to move, but was frozen to the spot. That's it, I'm done for, she thought.

"Severus," said a voice, softly behind them. Snape stopped his murderous advance and turned.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said, altogether more calmly, turning away from Cecilia.

"Mrs Frobisher, I would be grateful if you would return to your room and fetch more equipment for your science," said Dumbledore calmly. She nodded and quickly left, crunching the broken glass underfoot.

She could not find everything she needed, but when she returned, Snape was standing next to Dumbledore, looking far less enraged than he had done before.

Cecilia placed the glassware on the bench in front of them and looked between them, waiting for one of them to say something. Finally Dumbledore spoke.

"Professor Snape and I have agreed that you will be teaching him some muggle science from today. I am impressed with what you have done so far, and we both feel it is time to take it one step further, to build on the work you have begun. I'd like you start now, if you would." He smiled at Cecilia.

Now, she thought? Here? But I'm not ready, I can't, and I don't really want to be left with Snape on my own. As if reading her mind, Dumbledore added,

"I am also intrigued by the science of muggles Cecilia so, with your permission, I should like to stay for the lesson."

Before her mind could disobey, Cecilia dug in the box for some beakers. She pulled down some ingredients from the shelves which she knew would be suitable for demonstrations.

She began with the Greek philosophers and discussed their understanding and interpretation of the world. Galileo was her next source of inspiration and she talked about how important his observations of the celestial bodies were. When she discussed Newton she talked about his laws of motion, how an object remains at rest until a force is applied to it.

She tried to demonstrate this with some glass balls, and commented that the demonstration didn't work particularly well because they weren't totally spherical, and nearly jumped out of her skin when Dumbledore pulled out his wand and blue light shot out of the end, rectifying her problem.

Cecilia tried to link what she was saying to the wizards' frame of reference by asking questions to find out their prior knowledge and framed examples around what she already knew about inn Hogwarts, and they asked her questions. Periodically she would ask whether that was enough, and each time both Snape and Dumbledore encouraged her to proceed.

Eventually Dumbledore brought the lesson to a close.

"That was a most enlightening Cecilia," he said, smiling. "I must admit, I was worried about your progress together as a team," he said, looking between Cecilia and Snape, " But Professor Snape has assured me that you will continue together in your mutual disciplines." Cecilia looked across to Professor Snape, who nodded slightly.

"But if you would excuse me," said Dumbledore, rising from the bench in front of her," there are regrettably other matters that demand my attention." With that he left, and Cecilia and Snape were left alone.

"Cecilia, I must apologise for my outburst earlier." He stood too, and began to help her reshelve the ingredients she had used.

"Yes," she said eventually, allowing herself a moment of shallow self-indulgence. He said nothing, allowing her to continue.

"I think we should carry on with how we were," she said, handing him the last jar. "I have to admit, you understand far more about science than I do about magic."

"I have duties with the Order," he interjected. Great, thought Cecilia, just where I wanted to lead you. "I feel you need to know more theory about magic, especially about the wizarding world."

"So if I continue to work on that when you are not here," she said, leading the conversation passively.

"We can then work on interconnecting science and magic," he concluded. "If you agree to my suggestion Cecilia, our work may be more efficient."

Oh excellent, Cecilia said to herself. Men. Doesn't matter whether they're old, young, magical…they're so easy to manipulate if you know how.

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Cecilia hadn't banked on how difficult the next fortnight would be. The hard work came in the form of getting over the understanding of science to Snape when his frame of reference was limited. It was like trying to explain to someone what colour the sky was when they could only see in monochrome.

Similarly, when Snape spoke about magical theory, because Cecilia couldn't actually perform the magic herself it made it very difficult for her to relate to it and it ended up frustrating him so much he had would either throw something, or walk out of the classroom. She had also made the mistake of asking him to construct a concept map of what he understood about science, with the intention of herself doing the same for magic. This had resulted in him setting fire to the parchment and storming out of the classroom, leaving Cecilia wondering if he would actually return.

In the end, she spent a considerable amount of time compiling what was, for want of a better word a dictionary where the same reaction, condition or phenomenon was cross-referenced, and put up the diagrams they had made on the dungeon walls. Her days progressed as they had done before and she often bypassed the great hall and turned up when she felt like it in the house-elves kitchens, usually being overwhelmed by Dobby's inexorable enthusiasm.

Snape had told Cecilia she was welcome to use the books in the potions classroom, the ones that were stacked high and with the help of Dobby, she had reshelved some of them lower down within her reach. When he arrived to work in the evenings she would ask him about things she had just found out, and he would talk about what he thought they should look focus on that night. And when they disagreed an amicable agreement was reached most of the time.

From a distance she thought, it was not entirely indistinguishable from a normal working relationship, and though their disagreements were often unresolved they each discussed them fairly; Cecilia did not back down through fear, and he did not insult her. They were at last on common ground.

However he was frequently cold, critical and obdurate with their conversations remaining strictly within the confines of science and magic. If ever Cecilia mentioned personal details or asked him about matters concerning himself, Snape would silently ignore her and backtrack to the last part of the conversation that pertained to work.

One evening however, Cecilia was shocked to see him arrive dishevelled. His hair was hiding most of the right side of his face, and he was stooping from the shoulder.

"What the…Severus…!" she began, jumping down from the desk where she had been sitting cross-legged a few moments before.

"Leave it," he growled, brushing past her.

"You're hurt," she said again trying to follow him, "Please, let me help," she asked, but he proceeded into the room at the back of the classroom, returning ten minutes later.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, as if nothing had happened. But Cecilia didn't want to let it go.

"I don't want to know what work you do when you are not here," she said, "But strange as this may sound, I actually do care about you." She stopped, considering the last bit of the sentence. "Your welfare," she clarified.

"Your sentiments are noble," said Snape, a cutting edge to his voice, but softened. "Work for the Order. It's sometimes a bit risky. I'm OK now."

Cecilia nodded and they proceeded to consider the relationship between "Ferreverto" and conservation of energy.

Later, soaking in a hot bath, she pondering the way he affirmed his working for the Order, and Cecilia wondered if he knew he'd earned some of her respect.

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Cecilia received another letter from Tonks two days before the shopping trip. She'd been meaning to mention it to Snape about having the weekend off, and somehow getting to Grimmauld Place. She'd barely thought about the Weasley family, Remus and the others and she wondered whether she actually wanted to go back to Grimmauld Place when she felt quite settled here.

Since he admitted his injuries to Cecilia almost a week ago, their relationship had lost its hard edge. She was able to mention for example, if she was feeling tired. He even admitted he'd lost the point of what she was saying and asked her to repeat it, something he wouldn't have done before.

I'll ask him tonight whether he could take me back to Grimmauld Place, or how I could get there if he can't. Happy she'd made a decision, she tore some paper out of the back of her lab book, writing that she would be there, and risked her hands being pecked to shreds by one of the school owls.

The day passed relatively quietly. The mid-August sun had made her take her books outside and she lay out on her stomach reading through "Mysterious Mythology" again, distracted every so often by Remus's face appearing in her mind. Blow this for a lark, she thought, hearing the school clock chime six and went inside wondering why she had been thinking about someone she had met once three weeks ago.

When Snape arrived that evening, she was reading a parchment she had found lodged between two books near the top of the bookshelf half an hour before.

"Severus, I was wondering," she said, without looking up, "What is the Mark of the Dark Lord?"

She waited for him to answer and when he didn't, she looked at the parchment, in case she had misread it.

"What?" he said quietly, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were stony grey, and light flashed behind them.

"It says here," said Cecilia, reading from the parchment, "that the Dark Lord, in his unmerciful power, brings forth only the most loyal to receive the Mark, and the Mark of the Dark Lord is bound to the soul of the servant until his dying day….."

She looked back up at him questioningly, just in time to dodge bits of broken glass that were flying in her direction. She gasped as Snape strode towards her.

"Give that to me!" he stormed, grabbing her by the wrist, pushing her up against the dungeon wall. He put his other hand over her mouth, pressing his full weight against her. "Didn't you hear when I said you could only touch those books?" He tilted his head towards the shelves, squeezing her wrist tight against the stone until she unclenched her fingers. "Or are you too stupid to understand?" Cecilia tried to inhale; she felt light-headed and dizzy.

He snatched it from her hand and she slumped down the wall, gasping at the clammy air. She held her chest, staring at the flagstones.

"Cecilia!" he said, standing over her.

"Don't…touch…me.." she panted, her head angled to the floor and her eyes closed. She extended her arm, palm outstretched. She sat there for about ten minutes, waiting for her breathing to return to normal, and she looked round the room. Snape was not in the dungeon.

She gave herself another few minutes and got to her feet. Her wrist was throbbing, and her lungs felt as if she was a heavy smoker. She slumped back on one of the benches.

What on earth had just happened? All she had done was what she had done every night for almost a fortnight. The parchment was on a shelf, between two books, nowhere else. That was irrelevant now though; she couldn't believe his reaction and wondered about the significance of what she'd said.

She should have felt angry, or at least more scared, and was surprised to find that she wasn't. Why? He was angry with her, with Cecilia. But she wasn't the reason.

Cecilia rose unsteadily, and began looking for Snape. She didn't know where to look, or whether he'd still be in the castle but she eventually found him in the library.

"Severus" she said quietly. She knew he hadn't meant it and wanted him to know that. He said nothing, and tried to walk out without looking at her. She stood in his way.

"Stand aside", he said stonily, staring at her.

"Severus," she said, looking back at him, her eyes full of concern. "I'm sorry."

He stepped towards her, not breaking eye contact. "What do you have to be sorry for?" He looked down at her swollen wrist. He tried to push past her again.

She started to get annoyed. "An explanation," she said. "Please Severus, you owe me that much". He stopped and, glancing down at her wrist again, whispered something. Suddenly the pain stopped and the burning waned.

"I overreacted, "he said. "And for that I apologise."

"OK," said Cecilia evenly, knowing she would have to play her diplomatic skills to the limit. "but _my_ apology still stands. I should have asked before I looked at the parchment. I just assumed it was part of the book, you see." She could see he was in no fit state to tell her why his reaction was so volatile.

He looked at her wordlessly, and it appeared to Cecilia that he was trying to tell her, just with that mournful gaze, if he could undo the last hour of their lives he most certainly would have. That was enough of an apology for her, though she still felt a bit shaken. Vulnerable, that's what he seemed like. She had a strong desire to tell him that it was all alright.

"Tonks sent me a letter, I got it this morning," said Cecilia, smiling faintly. "I wish you'd told me this is how you had post delivered. I nearly had the shock of my life when an owl dropped this on me outside!" She smiled again, to try and lighten the mood and sat down on one of the chairs. Snape sat next but one to her, his head still inclined downwards.

"She says they are going shopping this weekend to…" she squinted at the letter trying to read the destination, "Diagonally." She looked again, and back at Snape. "Diagonally? Is that a direction? Anyway, we are going diagonally, apparently, to get some shopping with Mr and Mrs Weasley and their children, and some other children by the sound of it, and she wonders whether I would like to come. "

She looked up to face him, and swung the leg nearest to Snape under her, so she was facing him. "I wasn't going to, but I think we need a break from one another, workwise. Besides, it'll be nice to see the others, it seems ages since I met you all – "

"Spare me the details," said Snape coldly. "I know you are only trying to leave in the nicest way you can. I don't want to hear it. There's the door", he snapped, jabbing his finger towards the library door. He stood up and walked over to the fireplace, arms folded with his back to her.

Cecilia looked at the door, then back at him, confused. She didn't want to leave. Surely he understood they'd need a break once in a while? No, she thought, he still thinks I'm angry with him.

"Please," she said as kindly as she could. "Severus please, listen to me," she begged, getting up. She touched his arm gently, trying to get him to turn round, so he could to see it was all right.

"I just think I need a break, just a few days away from here. I've been a bit cooped up and besides, Tonks said she was planning to go shopping and there are some things I need to get."

She tugged touched his arm again and he turned. Cecilia was shocked to see his eyes damp with just the very traces of moisture.

"Cecilia, promise me…" he sighed, pausing. "Promise me that you'll return? So that we can continue our research? I didn't mean…I was angry…I'm not used…" he turned away, his back toward her.

She walked round, and tried to stand in front of him. He brushed her hand, which she was trying to rest on his arm, away. "You lost your temper, I've done that before, remember?" Cecilia remembered, she thought gravely, and the bother of having to find another silica reverse-reflux condenser would be her penance.

"Severus, I'm asking you to trust me, and when we've been shopping I'll contact you," somehow, she thought, gesturing vaguely towards the library fireplace. "And I'll come back with you. You have my word…" She paused, and then added, "This goes no further".

He looked up at her, and their eyes met. He straightened up, back to his formidable self. "It'll take about ten minutes to set up the connection", he said. "Whatever you haven't packed by then – too bad".

Cecilia smiled at him, then hurried back to her room.

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	9. Sirius Black

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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Snape looked round the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, where he and Cecilia had appeared. There was no-one about, and he set down her bag. Cecilia held his arm and tried to get her balance. He had taken them using Floo network to the nearest fireplace.

"Grimmauld Place, " he said, and looked past Cecilia towards the door. She let go of his arm and walked towards it, her knees, still a bit shaky, giving way slightly. When he didn't follow, she turned.

"Thank you," she said, and then paused. The logical part of her mind wanted to set a time for him to come and collect her, but truth be told, she was glad to get away from Hogwarts after last night.

"I'll leave you now," he said, a note of uncertainty in his voice. Had he sensed her pause? she wondered.

"Severus," she said, looking him in the eye. "I'll be in touch. About work that is," she added. He nodded slightly and turned to leave.

"Is there any way that I can get hold of you easily myself?" There, she'd done it. The commitment that she would actually return to Hogwarts and work with him was out in the open. There was no going back.

Snape paused and approached Cecilia, handing her a book that he pulled out of his robe. It looked like an exercise book; it was dark green, quite thin and the ivory pages were blank. There was a picture of a snake on the cover, with the word "Slytherin" printed underneath.

"If you need me for any reason, write down what you wish to say. I'll get the message," he said. Cecilia smiled. Whatever had caused him to react like that this evening she did not know, but now at least they could part on better terms.

Just then, the living room door opened and Tonks appeared.

"Hullo, Cecilia," she said, grinning at Cecilia. Her face fell when she saw Snape.

"As I said, I'll leave you now," said Snape. He flicked up the corners of his mouth in her direction, then scowled at Tonks. He strode over to the fireplace. Tonks looked between him and Cecilia.

"Hogwarts," he intoned, without turning round, and disappeared.

"You OK? I didn't think you were getting here until tomorrow." Tonks smiled again.

"Change of plan," said Cecilia smiling back. She picked up her bag to follow Tonks into the living room, but swapped hands quickly as a brief ache passed through her wrist.

"You survived then, I see," said Tonks, heading towards one of the settees. "Excellent, that's a galleon Remus owes me! Just kidding," she added, noticing Cecilia's expression.

"Have a seat," continued Tonks and Cecilia noticed two boys were sitting where she was gesturing, playing what looked like cards. On seeing Cecilia, one of them got up and shook Cecilia vigorously by the hand.

"Well, as Tonks here is being so discourteous in not introducing us, I suppose it's up to us, " he said.

"I'm George," he continued, "Pleased to meet you. And this is Fred," he said, gesturing towards his brother.

"Actually, I'm George," said the other boy. "Ignore Fred, he's just practicing his manners." They both laughed.

"So what is it you're doing at Hogwarts?" asked George genially. He suddenly went silent, as Fred hissed at him to be quiet and nudged him in the ribs. Cecilia swallowed.

"Work," said Tonks, giving George a warning look.

"So _you're_ her," said Fred, realisation of some kind dawning.

"What's that you're saying?" came a voice from behind them. A group of other children came down the stairs.

George opened his mouth to repeat what Fred had said, but before he could, one of them spoke.

"You're Mrs Frobisher, aren't you?" A girl came over from the foot of the stairs and stood before her, a look of intense curiosity on her face.

"Yes, that's right," she said, sitting down on one of the settees. Suddenly a cloud of dust billowed out from the cushion, and she jumped back up, to a chorus of sniggers from Fred and George, and the boys standing in the corner.

"Ignore them," the girl continued, "they're basically just idiots." The top of Cecilia's ankles began to sting.

"Fleas," said Tonks, turning up her nose. "Magical ones. Did they get you?" she asked, sympathetically. Cecilia nodded, trying not to yield to the intense itching.

"Iteriae Iradicatum", Tonks said, pulling her wand from her robes and swishing. The cloud behind Cecilia disappeared, and the stinging ceased.

"Thanks," said Cecilia, and smiled at Tonks. She looked at the young wizards. "Are you Mr and Mrs Weasley's children?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," said the girl who had recognised her. "Pleased to meet you. I'm just visiting, like Harry. But Ron, Ginny, Fred and George are," she said, pointing each one out as she named them. The twins shuffled around, so each now sat labelled as the other.

"You're all at Hogwarts, then?" she asked.

"Yup", said Ron, as the other children came over to her. "Dumbledore has our necks until we're seventeen."

"And how old are you now?"

"Well, Harry, Hermione and I are all fifteen. Ginny's fourteen and the twins are sixteen. Hang on," said Ron, "you're the _muggle_, aren't you?"

"Ron", said Hermione sternly. "How rude. Mrs Frobisher does have a name. " She turned back to Cecilia.

"We're staying here, over the summer", continued Hermione. I suppose you know anyway, about the Order."

"Yes, I've met one or two of the wizards in it."

"So you'll know all about Harry, then," she said, matter-of-factly.

"_Hermione_!" said the boy who Hermione had just called Harry, annoyed and approached Cecilia.

"I'm Harry," he said, determined that if he was going to be the topic of conversation, it would be him doing the telling.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, holding out her hand. "Cecilia Frobisher." Harry shook it.

"I actually don't know all about you; however feel free to share whatever it is Hermione so desperately wants me to know!" The children sat down on the other settees next to her and Tonks and they talked about life at Hogwarts, the sports team that Ron supported; how his brother worked in Romania with dragons and the different types there were (to which Cecilia found herself wondering idly about breeding patterns and taxonomic groups).

Then Harry told her about his family, and how a wizard called Voldermort had killed his parents when he was a baby. Cecilia noticed how the other children and Tonks shuddered when he said the wizard's name.

"But he couldn't kill you?" asked Cecilia.

"No, that's because Harry's mother protected him with her love," said Hermione, speaking slowly.

"Mrs Frobisher," said George, changing the subject. "I notice that you are still alive after spending the last three weeks with Professor Snape. Would you mind sharing with us how you managed it?"

"George…" said Ron urgently, but Cecilia laughed lightly.

"I take it you don't see eye to eye with your potions Professor?" she said, understanding exactly how that could be.

"Basically he's a git!" said Fred, and they all laughed. Just then, Mrs Weasley called them in for supper.

"Cecilia!" she cried, smiling broadly. "We weren't expecting you till tomorrow," said Molly, as they trooped into the kitchen. Cecilia realised then how hungry she was.

"I persuaded Severus to drop me off tonight," she began, hoping the lie didn't show on her face. She noticed Ron nudge Harry.

Mrs Weasley had made what Cecilia's mum would have called a Sunday spread, cold meat, salad and rolls, and the children hungrily tucked in.

"And some nice tea for you," said Molly, handing her a teacup. "You look famished," she said critically. "Did you get enough to eat at Hogwarts?"

"Actually," said Cecilia, biting into a buttered roll, "If I hadn't become friendly with one of the house elves, I probably would have starved to death by now. Turning up at the Great Hall at mealtimes didn't seem to work for me."

"Which house-elf was it?" asked Hermione. "I think it's rotten, the way they are treated you know," she continued. "They don't get paid, and they live in rags - "

"Hermione thinks that by knitting them clothes she's doing them a favour," said Ron, interrupting her. "What she doesn't understand is that all that actually happens is they can't find work because every other wizard family has their own house elf and doesn't want to pay one when they can have theirs do it for nothing."

"Exactly," said Hermione, trying to reason with him "You can see my point, can't you, Mrs Frobisher? Its just plain slavery."

Cecilia picked up her cup of tea and said nothing.

"But you only think like that because you're still applying muggle-world rules to wiz – what?" said Ron, as his mother nodded towards Cecilia and gave him a look.

"But it's true though," he protested, looking round at everyone, his eyes resting on Hermione. "Muggles think they are all equal. But not all magical beings are equal, that was all I was saying."

"Unless you've forgotten, my parents are muggles, so what is it exactly you are saying, Ronald, please share it," said Hermione, coolly.

"I don't think Ron meant anything by it, " said Ginny, trying to calm things down.

"House-elves are not equals to wizards though, are they?" said Ron desperately, trying not to dig himself a deeper hole but failing dismally. "You're still a wizard, Hermione, same as all of us, and wizards know we are the most superior beings…."

"Ronald!" said Mrs Weasley, sharply, and gave him another warning look. Ron slowly began to turn a deep shade of beetroot.

"Mrs Frobisher used to be a teacher, didn't you?" said Tonks, changing the subject. "What was it you taught?"

"Science," said Cecilia. "To children of your age, actually," she said addressing them.

"What's that then?" asked Ginny, curiously. Cecilia put down her cup.

"In your world, you have magic. You use it to do things with, you use it to represent things, and you use it to explain what's going on around you. Muggles, as you know, don't have magic. We have to use our senses which are, as Ron rightly pointed out, not as sophisticated as those of a wizard." Cecilia was aware that the kitchen had fallen silent; even Mrs Weasley and Tonks were watching her.

"Muggles use their senses to measure, explore and investigate the world around them, around us. We collect the information and try to make sense of it, build a picture of the world from our point of view, in a way we can understand."

There was silence, and Cecilia wondered whether she'd overstepped the mark. Then Harry spoke.

"I suppose it's like when I came to Hogwarts for the first time, " he said. "I didn't understand wizards and magic, so I had to use what I knew about the muggle world to understand it better." Remarkable, thought Cecilia.

"That's an excellent analogy, Harry, yes. Particular branches of science I taught at school, in a similar way to how you have specific teachers at Hogwarts. My area of expertise was chemistry, which is in fact quite similar to potions, and to a lesser extent, physics and biology."

"Well I'd rather I had you for science than Snape for potions any day of the week," muttered George.

"In fact, I'd rather learn how to water ski naked than have Snape for anything," added Fred, and the children laughed.

"Did you like Hogwarts, Cecilia?" asked Mrs Weasley, "apart from the practicality side that is? Did you have any other problems?" Immediately, Cecilia's mind flipped to the events of that evening and she pushed them with some effort to the back of her mind.

"Not many, I was really fortunate to become, I suppose friendly would be the right word, with a house-elf, who worked in the kitchen.

"Yes, you did say, Mrs Frobisher" said Harry eventually, "What was his name?"

"Cecilia, please," said Cecilia, smiling at the thought of Dobby in his eclectic mode of dress. "Dobby," she said, and added, "That's right, Professor Dumbledore said he knew you, Harry."

"Yes," groaned Harry, "Don't tell me he's been helping you too! How many arms have you had to have regrown?"

"In our second year, Dobby thought he was protecting Harry, and he ended up having his bone magicked away accidentally," clarified Hermione, ignoring Ron's pleading look and helping herself to a teacake. "I'm sure nothing like that happened though, did it?"

"No," laughed Cecilia. "But I think your school is great, the grounds are beautiful and the castle is stunning. I would have loved to have gone there when I was your age." Mrs Weasley held her wand over Cecilia's teacup and it refilled itself. "Thanks, Molly," she said, smiling.

"Time for bed, I think," announced Mrs Weasley. "Now now, " she said, rebutting the groans of protest. "We have a long day tomorrow, and I think there's been quite enough excitement for one evening."

Soon after, they obediently traipsed upstairs, the twins leading, whispering to one another and Hermione shouldering past Ron, who looked like he was trying to reason with her.

"And it'll soon be my turn," said Mrs Weasley, hurriedly magicking away the tea things.

"Aren't you waiting up for Arthur?" asked Tonks, reshrinking the table smaller and making some of the chairs disappear.

"No, he's on lates today at the Ministry, won't be home till gone midnight, and I'm really done in." With that, she left Cecilia and Tonks.

"It's so good to have a weekend off," said Tonks, as they headed into the living room. "Usually I'm on call, it's your life when you're an Auror," she said, wistfully. Cecilia yawned, and smiled apologetically at Tonks.

"I'd stay up a bit, " she said, "but I'm knackered."

"Snape been cracking the whip, eh?" she winked at Cecilia.

"Only if I ask," giggled Cecilia.

"What a sick thought, " laughed Tonks, allowing herself to flop onto the sofa. "Night then, sleep well".

"I will, " said Cecilia, meaning it. She walked up the stairs, grabbing her bag as she went, then turned and called back to Tonks.

"Am I still in the same room?"

"Sorry, Cecilia? Yes, you are,"

"Right-oh, night," said Cecilia sleepily, looking forward to her head hitting the pillow. She rounded the corner on the first floor and grabbed her wash things, throwing her bag by the door. Pacing back towards the bathroom, she ignored the portrait at the end yelling obscenities at her.

She turned towards the bathroom door and was about to enter when she overheard some noises. Pausing, she listened.

"Well I think she's nice…."

"…but that's because for she didn't praise you for the correct answer for once, Hermione…"

"I know Ron…how much do we really know about…just shut up a minute, will you?"

"…your mother will have your hide…"

"Ginny!…sh sh sh..."

The voices faded away, and Cecilia entered the bathroom. The children actually seemed OK, she thought to herself, as she lathered her face. Harry seemed quite normal, but she'd noticed a scar on his forehead, and wondered how it was connected to his extraordinary life.

Ron though, and Hermione, bickering like an old married couple! Even she and Tim never argued like that. Well, almost never, she thought as she rinsed her face, blotting it with her flannel, and sighed.

What had made Hermione so upset though? It was obvious that everyone thought she, Cecilia, might be upset about his comments. Hadn't she said her parents were muggles? Cecilia played the conversation back in her mind as she exited he bathroom.

Ron had said she was still as much of a wizard as they were. So, non-magical people can give birth to children who they themselves are wizards.

With that thought resting in her mind, Cecilia opened her bedroom door, grabbing her bag with the other hand, and threw he door shut behind her

She flicked on the light switch and screamed – the whole room was filled with bats, hundreds of them, all hanging from the ceiling. She tried to open the door again, but it wouldn't open; she pulled on the knob, but nothing happened. Bats were now surrounding her, flitting about her head, and she gasped.

"Cecilia!" came voice on the other side of the door. It was Tonks. "Are you OK?"

"No!" she yelled back, "the place is full…aah!" she yelled, as one flapped past her.

"Alohomora," Cecilia heard Tonks say, as she flattened herself against the wall. The door sprung open.

"What is all this commotion?" said Mrs Weasley, in an agitated voice. She looked round the door, and her face hardened and she headed determinedly towards the stairs to the second floor.

"I think you've been had, Cecilia" said Tonks, grinning broadly. Cecilia nodded, stepping out of the way. Tonks grabbed her wand again.

"Fliermause Iridicatum" she said, waving her wand. The bats disappeared and the room became its neat self. Cecilia breathed heavily, hearing footsteps hurrying around o the floor above them.

"On the other hand, perhaps I should have just one more cup of tea, " said Cecilia, looking at Tonks. "I think I maybe pre-empted the room being ready." She followed Tonks downstairs.

"No, I think the timing was just right," said Tonks, laughing. "I'm not sure what Molly will do to the twins, but I can assure you they won't like it!" Cecilia smiled. She sat down on one of the settees again, testing it carefully this time, her heart racing.

"Half a mo, and I'll get you that tea," said Tonks "I just have to grab an owl and send this message back to the ministry." She headed towards the kitchen again, and Cecilia heard something open. She looked round the room again, and her eye caught something on the table, which was moving.

Cecilia leaned closer. The images looked very much like photographs, they were 6 by 4, but from the top, they appeared to be three-dimensional. Curious, thought Cecilia and picked one up. She turned it on its side, but it was wafer-thin.

As she went to put it down again, words on a piece of paper lying underneath the images caught her eye.

"17th August: Muggle-Baiting Report"

Cecilia glanced back at the image, and back at the paper again. She picked it up.

"The attacks for this month have been unusually high in the Hounslow area. Three cases have been reported this week alone, the most disturbing of which was captured by a muggle security camera…"

Cecilia glanced at the image in her hand. The number in the bottom right-hand corner matched with the one in the report. She looked at it, horror creeping up on her.

From what she could see from the image the attackers were standing on the top of a multi-storey car park. Cecilia could see the glow from the sodium-coloured street lights at the top right hand edge. Just then, a flash of darkness obscured the image, but it moved to reveal two men? Wizards? Presumably wizards, Cecilia thought to herself, holding the arms of a man behind his back.

The man looked to be in his early thirties, dressed casually, but there was what looked like blood down one side of his face. Suddenly, one of the wizards pulls out wand, and the man's face contorted into a picture of agony. The other wizard used his wand to lift up the man's legs. Once they were horizontal to the safety rail, the second wizard sent a jet of green light towards the poor man, who is sent over the edge.

Trying to tear herself away, Cecilia was relieved when the image goes dark, and the first "scene" appeared back on the image. She discarded it, and picked up the report again, and clamps her hand to her mouth when she reads that shortly after George Hudson's death where the "Death Eaters" had used two "Unforgivable Curses" his eight-year old daughter who had been looking for her father, and was subjected to the same horrific fate.

"My god…" she thought, considering the horror she had witnessed. Just then, Cecilia heard the door in the kitchen open, and she threw down the report, hoping Tonks hadn't seen her reading it.

"That's better, " said Tonks, grinning, "The weekend starts here". She noticed Cecilia's face and added, "Don't worry about the children. If you like, you can stay with me tonight, there's a spare bed in my room." Cecilia nodded, relieved.

"Now," said Tonks, and sighed. "I'm still getting my head around you working with Snape!" She shuddered for effect, and changed her sleek bob to a mournful washed-out colour.

Cecilia nodded, trying to eliminate the pictures in her mind of what she had just seen.

"I mean, " she continued, magicking a pair of cups and saucers and a teapot, "Snape? Co-operating? That's a first! And with a muggle?" she stopped quickly. Despite wanting to ask Tonks to clarify her last comment, she resisted.

"It seems to be going OK, " said Cecilia, "no thanks," she added, shaking her hand across the rim if the cup indicating she didn't want milk. "It was slow going at first, but we seem to be making progress. I think the worst problem was finding that everyday things didn't work. Nothing in the bathroom would work for me, the fire kept flickering green the whole three weeks I was there, but I couldn't for the life of me get one started myself, and I wish someone had warned me about the ghosts!" Tonks nodded.

"I could tell you stories about Peeves that'd make your hair curl. And some about Snape, come to that!" She flicked her wand towards Cecilia, turning her straight hair into a mass of spiral curls.

"Hey, " said Cecilia in mock-admonishment, grinning. "Thanks! I look like an '80s backing singer!"

"Would you prefer…Marseilles Wave?" Tonks flicked her wand again, and Cecilia's curled hair grew shorter, parted on one side and flattened itself against her head. Cecilia laughed.

"You'd be handy to have around in the mornings. I'd love to be permanently any colour as long as it wasn't this, " she said, pulling at her now-back-to-normal boring hair.

"Remus has a soft spot for redheads," said Tonks. "That's why I go pink as often as I remember just to annoy him!" Cecilia picked up her tea, and sipped, thinking how like Amy Tonks was.

"He's coming with us tomorrow, by the way," continued Tonks, "I just adore spending time with him."

"So are you and Remus…you know…?" Cecilia looked questioningly at Tonks. The younger girl smiled.

"Not as such, but let's just say, there's an unspoken understanding." Tonks looked up, dreamily. "I'm just waiting for the right time for him to ask me, and that'll be that. Was that what it was like for you and your husband?" Cecilia looked down into her tea. No, it was completely different, she thought. Tim just asked her out one day; they'd known each other properly a mere 5 weeks. But it seemed like years; it seemed right.

"Sorry," said Tonks, with concern in her voice, when Cecilia didn't reply. "I always manage to stick my big foot in it."

"You haven't," said Cecilia. "I was just thinking. Tim and I? No it was nothing like you and Remus, We barely knew each other when he asked me out, but we were married within a year. We spent seven good years together…" her voice trailed off and she swallowed. "Not like you and Remus I expect. How long have you known each other?"

"We've known each other all my life. He was at school with my cousin, one of his best friends. And because I'm a half-blood and my cousin turned his back on his family, we spent a lot of time hanging out. Mother says that was why I turned out like I did. I always assume she means it as a compliment."

"Sorry, Tonks, you've lost me. A half blood?"

"My mum's a pure-blood witch; that means my grandparents were pure blood too. But my dad's a muggle, so that makes me, in wizarding terms, a half blood." Tonks sipped her tea.

"And your cousin," continued Cecilia, "He's a half blood too?"

"No, pure blood. But there's a lot of baggage comes with that. Most pure blood families expect their children to be purist too, and marry pure blood witches and wizards. Some even arrange their marriage when they are children. Disgusting! My mum was cast out of the family because she married a muggle, and Sirius stood up for her, so they disowned him too."

"Charming," said Cecilia.

"Indeed!" said Tonks, and laughed. "I bet it makes her sick, old Auntie, knowing that the Order of the Phoenix meet here and now she's dead, she can't do anything about it."

"Except shriek," added Cecilia, as the faint echoes of protest about traitors in the house drifted downstairs. "Hermione mentioned though, that her parents were both muggles. How does that work?"

"No-one actually knows," laughed Tonks, "Muggle-borns used to be revered in times past, hundreds of years ago but now, with the attitude of pure bloods, and with the rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named and his followers, they are out and out persecuted. That's why Hermione was so touchy this evening."

The great magical wisdom _is_ fallible then, said Cecilia to herself, allowing herself a smug couple of minutes to dwell on this.

"But can muggle-born wizards do magic in the same way as other wizards?" Cecilia wondered aloud.

"Yes, the same. If not better, I'd say, depends on what type of magic. But if you're a wizard, it's like you either can, or can't." Tonks refilled Cecilia's teacup "Your born with it. Or in your case without!" She nudged Cecilia jovially.

Cecilia nodded, thinking to herself. Fascinating. You're born a muggle or you're born a wizard. There's no spectrum or continuum of wizardlyness.

"Tell you something, there's some great shops in Diagonalley", said Tonks, sipping her tea. "Uh, this tea could do with some whisky", she said, and some amber liquid poured itself out of the end of her robe. "You?"

"Why not?" said Cecilia. "Oh yes, that's what I was going to ask you, diagonally. Is that a direction?"

"No silly," said Tonks, nudging her as if Cecilia was just kidding her. "It's a place. Well a street actually. It sells everything a wizard could need and more. Has the essentials for all of the Hogwarts students, which is why Mrs Weasley is taking the children there. But it has some other fantastic things too."

"Such as?" asked Cecilia, through sippings of lovely tea.

"You'll see. But they have an M&S. Fantastic wizard clothes they do." Tonks drained her cup. "Ready?"

Cecilia nodded, and set down her cup on the table, and followed Tonks upstairs. Her room was decorated in pink candy stripes, which shimmered as they entered.

"Yours," said Tonks gesturing towards a bed. "I'll let you get sorted, OK?" she said, and left the room.

"Fantastic, Tonks, called Cecilia after her, pulling off her clothes and undies. She carefully peeled back the duvet and, pulling on a nightie from her bag, got in. An M&S. Great, she thought, as her head hit the pillow. Perhaps this wizarding world isn't so bad after all.

88888888

The bed was moving intermittently as if someone was jumping on it. Cecilia drifted into consciousness.

"Dobby," she said sleepily. "It's far too early." Then she realised she wasn't at Hogwarts now, but Grimmauld Place, and opened her eyes. Someone was jumping on the bed but it wasn;t Dobby. It was Tonks.

"Time to get up?" asked Cecilia, pulling herself to a sitting position.

"Not yet, said Tonks, a look of serenity on her face. "Sorry Cecilia, I'm just so excited!" and with that, gave the springs another powerful bounce.

"What are the shops like? Any good?"

"The best," said Tonks. Se stopped bouncing and sat cross-legged towards Cecilia. "You can get practically anything you like there, no fuss. Anything from a few sickles to a couple of dozen galleons for best dress-robes."

A thought struck Cecilia. How was she going to pay for anything? All she had was pounds and pence, none of the special wizard money. She mentioned this to Tonks.

"Not a problem, you can change that at the bank. Don't worry, I'll show you when we get there."

"When are we leaving?" asked Cecilia, sitting up in bed. "And how are we getting there?" hoping the answer wasn't going to be Floo powder.

"Floo powder," said Tonks, getting up. Cecilia groaned inwardly. Another ten minutes to look forward to. "The children aren't old enough to apparate yet, and you can't anyway. We're going after breakfast, come on, " she added, pulling Cecilia's arm. "The sooner you're dressed, the sooner we can get there."

After breakfast, which entailed the Weasley twins attempting to express their regret for the previous evening's practical joke, but failing dismally, the children, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Remus and Cecilia made their way to the living room fireplace. Cecilia tried to stop herself thinking about what was to follow, and was grateful when Mr Weasley engaged her in a conversation about bridges.

"But what holds them together if not magic? Surely they'd just fall apart?" he asked, with genuine interest, and Cecilia talked about forces, engineering and cement; Mr Weasley interjecting every so often by "Fascinating!" and "Do they really?" as he listened intently.

"Come on," said Remus, as Mr and Mrs Weasley disappeared in green flames. "Just us." Cecilia looked uncertainly at him.

"Its OK," he said kindly, "You've done this before, haven't you?" She nodded, dreading the sickness she would feel when they got there. Remus approached the fireplace, but Cecilia did not follow. He turned and walked back over to Cecilia

"Don't think about it," he said, his pale eyes smiling. "Here, hold my hand, and it'll soon be over." Without waiting for her to resist, he took her hand in his, and led her to the fireplace.

"Leaky Cauldron", he said, throwing a handful of green dust onto the hearth, and placed his other hand over hers. Cecilia's stomach lurched as the journey began, as nausea overcame her. When they arrived moments later in another fireplace, Cecilia's legs couldn't hold her weight, and she sagged, still holding Remus's hand. He gripped it firmly and pulled her up, leading her to the nearest bench.

"There, there," he said, "all over now." Tonks sat down next to her.

"They've gone to Flourish and Blotts, I said we'd catch them up," she said, looking at Cecilia. "I'll stay with her, Remus."

Remus paused slightly and nodded. "See you both later," he said, and left.

"Damn stupid body," said Cecilia, as she tried to make a joke out of it. "Not strong enough to be transported miles in the blink of an eye."

"Don't put yourself down," said Tonks. "My dad could never do it; he'd be out of it for at least a day. Made it dead awkward for mum because he refused to travel by Floo and she hated cars. She used to fly and wait for him to drive."

"I don't think I'll ever get use to that, though," said Cecilia. No matter how many times her hand was held by good-looking men, she thought to herself.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes; Tonks idly changing the length and pattern of her fingernails, until Cecilia was sure she wasn't actually going to be sick

"Come on then, let's see these shops," she said, getting to her feet. Tonks jumped up and led the way and Cecilia followed her out of the Leaky Cauldron and out into the main street.

Cecilia was fascinated by Diagonalley. The street wound for miles, it twisted and turned, and the shops were set higgledy-piggledy next to one another. It reminded Cecilia a little of the Shambles in York, but it was almost impossible to tell structurally where one finished and the other began.

As they walked she looked at the signs, the logos advertising their wares sprang to life. The silhouette of a black cat indicated one shop had pets for sale; another had a multitude of owls. Cecilia noticed a crowd of children round the window of a shop, and she paused momentarily, only to discover it was one that sold broomsticks. The children were debating the relative merits of two of them loudly, and as she hurried to catch up with Tonks noticed an older wizard join in.

Cecilia noticed a sign above another shop displaying a vial; the smoke emanating from the top alternately changed colour as she watched and Cecilia noted where it was on the street.

"Come on" yelled Tonks, and Cecilia realised she'd been staring at the sign for a while. She hurried to catch up with her and followed her into a shop. Every floor was lined from floor to Ceiling with books. Heaven, thought Cecilia, I could spend a week I here.

"Cecilia!" shouted Hermione, hurrying over to her. "We thought you'd changed your mind."

"Not a chance," said Cecilia, feeling a small glow in her stomach. "What have you got there?" she gestured towards the thick tome Hermione was holding.

"This? Oh, nothing special. I was going to buy another copy so I could send it to mum and dad. They know how much it means to me being a witch, but it's something they don't really understand."

"Magic and Muggles: a Merry Malady," read Cecilia aloud. "Is it any good?"

"Not too bad. It's sent free to all muggle-born wizards before they get to Hogwarts. I was grateful; at least I had a better chance of knowing what I was letting myself in for." Cecilia glanced at the cover again.

"How much is a galleon worth?" she asked, reminding herself she needed to get some wizard money.

"It's not actually a bad price; our spell books this year alone cost nearly six" said Hermione. "One galleon is about twenty one pounds I think; I haven't checked the exchange rates for a while though." She handed her the book. "Would you like my honest opinion?" said Hermione, carefully.

"Certainly," replied Cecilia.

"It's a great book from the point of view of a wizard, but I doubt it would be that accurate from your point of view. Maybe I won't get it for mum and dad, actually" she conceded, and turned to go.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Cecilia, opening up the cover. "Thank you, Hermione."

Cecilia turned to the index page and scanned the chapters; stopping when she came to a chapter called, "Humorous Hoaxes," and turned to page 127.

"...whereas some muggles believed fervently in the UFO that was sighting over a field in Staffordshire. The crop circle phenomenon is now known to be internationally-studied in the muggle world. Is it any wonder then, that the Minister for Magic is reluctant to inform the muggle world leaders that they were actually created by a Mr Donald Sullivan, 57, retired joke-shop proprietor in Diagonally?..."

Cecilia glanced at the picture adjacent the text, showing Mr Sullivan standing next to an elaborate example. She flicked over another couple of pages and was about to put the book down when a word caught her eye – half-blood. She flicked back to the pages.

The page showed a magical timeline, from the first known wizard, estimated by the book to have lived at the time of stone-age man. She glanced across the timeline, looking for the word half-blood, and she noticed a small text box.

"It is hard to say what counts, in the eyes of pure blood wizard, as being acceptable lineage. Most pure-blood wizards say you at least have to be sure that both sets of grandparents were pure blood however in recent years the criteria have become distorted. This is usually attributable to the influence of "You-Know-Who" and the authors have heard that some pure blood families do not accept witches and wizards unless their ancestors are pure blood at least a thousand years ago. This limit is paradoxical because at that time, wizards born from muggle parents were highly esteemed, whereas wizard parents whose offspring had no magical powers (squibs) were shunned by the community, and were often killed by the mother out of fear and shame. Today, the proportion of half-blood witches and wizards is close to 80, with muggle borns making up almost 18. Even now the stigma attached to being a squib is great enough so that an accurate percentage of this part of the population is impossible to determine as many squibs prefer to live as muggles."

Cecilia read over the passage again, intrigued, and flicked over a couple of pages. She stopped when she came to a page titled, "Muggle-Baiting – The Truth They Tried To Ban!" and noticed a section about a wizard prison, but before she could read any further Tonks approached her.

"Found something interesting?" she said, glancing at the book.

"Great," murmured Cecilia, not wanting to put it down. "I say Tonks, could you show me where the bank is? I think this book will come in really handy."

"Sure thing," she said. "It's just down the road where we came past and – "

"I can take Cecilia," said Remus, who had suddenly appeared by them. "I've got to meet someone down that way."

"Great," said Tonks. "Then I can get my book signed by the author," and she gestured to the book she was carrying, "The maniac's guide to broomstick manoeuvres"

"You should have said earlier," chuckled Remus. "Heaven forbid I should be keeping you from same serous literature." Tonks nudged him playfully.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," said Remus as they walked back up Diagonalley. "You were really brave this morning."

"Thanks," said Cecilia, feeling anything but brave. "You'll have to come and hold my hand every time!" Remus laughed, and she changed the subject.

"You and Tonks seem like a lovely couple," she said, as they passed the broomstick shop. The children were gone now, replaced with older wizards pointing at various parts of the window, though seemingly arguing about the same sort of thing.

"We've known each other for a long time," said Remus, glancing away briefly. "In a sense, we're not actually together as such."

"But when the times right?" prompted Cecilia. Remus nodded.

"She will be so happy. Yet…" he paused and briefly glanced down, then looked back at Cecilia, "…who knows what the future will bring? She's still young, and sometimes I wonder whether I'll be strong enough to be there for her when the realities of life take away her optimistic ideals."

Cecilia nodded, thinking back to the last time she was with Tim. Words of anger, hurtful things. And then he was gone forever, and she couldn't take them back. Life really has a knack of kicking you when you were down.

They walked a bit further in silence, until they turned a corner. In front of them lay a huge building, three storeys high. It towered over all the other buildings that surrounded it, and Cecilia wondered where in London you would have to be to see it.

"Gringotts," said Remus, and made his way through the people in front of the doors. He stopped suddenly and Cecilia, who had been distracted by the architecture, bumped into him.

"Sorry," she said, stepping aside. "I've never seen a building like it before." Remus laughed.

Cecilia followed Remus in side. The bank was huge; its inside reached the height of its outside, and huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

"You need to go to the service desk", said Remus, pointing towards a huge counter at the far end of the building. "They're goblins," he added, noticing the startled look on Cecilia's face a she looked at the bank staff. "Don't worry, their bark's worse than their bite. I'll meet you back by the door later on," he said gesturing back towards the entrance. "Good luck," he added and with that he left, leaving Cecilia looking round in awe.

She made her way to the service counter, and within a few minutes, a goblin peered over the edge of the desk.

"Yes?"

"Er, I er,.." began Cecilia as it looked at her disdainfully. She coughed.

"I have some money, which I need to change for, er…money," she said, wondering whether she should say muggle and wizard aloud, and fumbled into her purse, retrieving some pound notes.

"Your permit," he said, holding out its hand. Cecilia looked at its hand and glanced back up.

"Permit?" she said confused.

"Your muggle permit. For permission to be in wizard territory. Please show it to me."

"But I haven't got one," said Cecilia, concerned. "No-one said I needed one." She swallowed.

"I see," said the goblin slowly. "In that case you must follow me. There are a few things we need to discuss."

The goblin came from behind the back of the counter and lead Cecilia towards a door, next to it. It beckoned Cecilia to follow, and they walked down a long, dimly-lit passageway. After a few minutes, the it paused outside a door and knocked, and it swung open Muggle Relations, read Cecilia, as the passed it and the goblin gestured towards a chair, and it sat in the other, holding up its hand and making the door swing shut.

"No permit," said the goblin, as it reached across the table towards a pile of parchment and picked up a quill. "I need some details from you, muggle. Name?"

"Cecilia," she swallowed, and glanced round. "Cecilia Frobisher.

"You'd better begin by explaining how you came to be in Diagonalley without a permit"

"I am working for a wizard, well wizards, actually.." she said, feeling quite worried now. "But not today, I was invited to come shopping with one of them." She saw the goblin writing down everything she was saying.

"But I actually don't have any wizard money, and one of the wizards said I could get…muggle money changed here. I don't know anything about a permit, I'm afraid." The goblin looked up.

"According to Wizard Law, laid down by the Wizengamot Council, all muggles present on wizard territory must carry a permit. The law is very clear on that point, and I am obliged to tell you that if you cannot give me a satisfactory explanation, representatives from the Ministry of Magic will be informed." Cecilia exhaled, feeling her heart thump in her chest, faster and deeper.

"What is the name of the wizard for whom you are working?" continued the goblin, quill poised. Oh no, thought Cecilia. But how could she not say Dumbledore? He'd understand, surely, he knew she didn't have a permit.

"Professor Dumbledore, from Hogwarts School," said Cecilia, quietly.

The goblin looked up from the paper, and stared over the top of his spectacles.

"Professor Dumbledore? I see. And what work in particular are you undertaking?"

"I can't tell you that," said Cecilia. "But he will vouch for my honesty."

The goblin folded the parchment in half, and reached for another. It began to write, and Cecilia glanced over, trying to read what she'd put, but the writing was too small. Then the goblin got up.

"You will have to wait outside," it said, walking towards the door. "I must ascertain that what you are saying is true. Then I can then proceed with your request." It gestured towards the now-open door, and Cecilia followed it back up the corridor. They went back through the door into the main foyer of the bank.

"Wait here," it said. "You will be called in due course. Cecilia looked at the chairs, set back from the main part of the bank. She took her bag off her shoulder and sat down, surveying the architecture.

But I could just walk out if here, thought Cecilia, if I don't have a permit no-one would find out. She was about to get up, but then thought better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was draw even more attention to herself. She pulled her bag up to her knee, and began to glance through it, out of boredom, pulling things out at random. Purse; house keys (they were some use); there was Freya's picture. She looked at the hugely deformed zebra, thinking of her god-daughter and in her mind's eye pictured her colouring in the rainbow-effect stripes. Cecilia placed it on the seat next to her.

Diary…well that was a lot of use now, and she briefly looked up the entry for Saturday, 18th August. Oh well, at least there wasn't something vitally important I was supposed to be doing, she thought, glancing at the blank page. I suppose sitting here and waiting for a wizard to till a goblin bank clerk that I was on the level or else face heaven knows what was preferable to doing nothing. She sighed, a little nervous feeling in her stomach, despite being on the level. A voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Cecilia turned and looked up. A tall man, with long blonde hair falling over his shoulders, was looking between her and the pile of things she'd pulled out of her bag.

"Of course," said Cecilia, apologetically. "Please," she gestured towards the seat, and picked up the contents of her handbag.

"Slytherin," said the man, sitting down next to her, and handed her the book Snape had given her. Oh damn, I must have dropped it, thought Cecilia in alarm.

"Do you work at Hogwarts?" he asked, eying narrowing slightly.

"Not as such," said Cecilia truthfully, taking the book back off the man. "I've just been helping one of the professors there. I expect I picked this up by mistake." Cecilia smiled, hoping she'd pulled it off.

"I'm waiting for my son," he said, shifting round in the chair so he now faced her. "He's setting up another bank account. School things. How about yourself?" Cecilia swallowed.

"I'm actually waiting for one of the goblins to return," she said, hoping it was the right thing to say. Cecilia noticed the man was staring at her curiously, and she blinked, pulling her handbag onto her lap. "Is your son at Hogwarts, then?" She didn't particularly want to chat, but she preferred to be in charge of the conversation if she had no choice.

"Yes," said the man, a smooth tone to his voice. "Which of the professors was it you were working with?" Cecilia sighed inwardly; that was just where she didn't want this to go.

"I'm not actually sure of his name," she said, and looked across to the door through which the goblin had disappeared. "I hope they don't keep me much longer," she added, looking down at her bag. Why can't you just keep your big mouth shut, she scolded herself.

"I shouldn't worry, they don't tend to take long when dealing with permits, said the man silkily, as if reading her mind. Cecilia turned to face him, taken aback. "A lucky guess," he explained, the corners of his mouth flicking up momentarily. "Don't worry, I won't tell," he whispered conspiratorially. "It will just be our little secret, eh?" He nudged her, and winked.

"Which one is your son?" asked Cecilia, determined to steer away the conversation from herself. She looked in the direction of the queue.

"Oh, he's not in the queue. He's in a private interview, with the senior manager," said the man, jerking his head slightly in self-importance. "He shouldn't be long now. Nor should you," he added, looking past her. Cecilia turned her head, and noticed the goblin who had interviewed her earlier approaching. She stood up.

"It was nice meeting you," said Cecilia, politely. The man stood, and Cecilia realised he was actually very tall. "It was a pleasure talking to you," he said, as he turned to go, then turned back and added, "to ascertain whether the person with whom you are speaking is honest, write in the back of the book." Cecilia spun round. How did he know that? But the man had stridden away past the counters, ushering a boy of about fifteen along with him.

"Mrs Frobisher, " said the goblin. "If you would follow me," and it turned towards the door to the corridor that led to Muggle Relations. Her heart was pounding harder now, and her palms were clod and clammy. She quickly sat in the chair the goblin was motioning towards, awaiting her fate.

Once seated, the goblin handed her a piece of parchment. On the top was the crest of Hogwarts School. Cecilia scanned down and at the bottom, in large looped gold letters was Dumbledore's signature. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"It is fortunate for you that Professor Dumbledore did assure your story," said the goblin, with an imperceptible hint of disappointment in its voice. "Therefore we will acquiesce to your request to exchange muggle money for wizard money. Sign please," it said, indicating a space on the bottom of another document filled with small print. Cecilia was tempted to sit and read through the script, but decided it may be pushing her luck.

"Excuse me," she asked, still feeling shaken. "If I wish to exchange more money, how do I go about it? As I don't have a permit?" The goblin pushed the letter from Dumbledore towards her. "Your permit," it said. "Produce it at the counter. Now," it continued, lowering its head to the desk "your muggle bank details." Cecilia gave them to it. Almost immediately what looked like an infra-red beam of light shot up through the desk and a screen, not dissimilar to '80s graphics displayed the details. Her pitifully low balance flashed up and the goblin pushed at a couple of buttons in mid-air.

"I have authorised muggle money to be transferred to the Bank of England," it said, as the screen disappeared. "The equivalent sum of gold is now in our vaults." The goblin got up and turned to the wall behind it, pulling at a drawer. It lifted out a drawstring pouch and handed it to Cecilia. "Wizard money," it said. Cecilia pulled back the cord, exposing…gold pieces, like the ones Mr Weasley had tried to use on the Underground. In addition, there were smaller silver coins, and tiny bronze ones. They were decorated with, well, they looked like wizards to her on one side, and Cecilia chided herself. Had you really been expecting the Queen? She held some in her hand in awe as the candle light glinted off their contours.

"If that is everything, Mrs Frobisher..." said the goblin, heading towards the door. Cecilia nodded, putting the pouch into her handbag, and quickly grabbing her permit from Dumbledore off the desk.

When she got back to the bank foyer, she noticed Remus pacing near the chairs where she had sat earlier. When he noticed her, he hurried over.

"Cecilia!" he exclaimed. "Where have you been? You've been gone almost an hour, I was staring to worry." She stopped walking and bowed her head. The effects of the last twenty four hours that she had kept bottled up had finally got to her.

"Hey, now," he said, noticing her eyes become damp.

"It's OK," said Cecilia, walking quickly towards the door, wiping her eyes, "I've got to get out of here." Remus hurried to catch up with her.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand when she was outside, and led her round the corner into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Cecilia, what happened?" he said, as they sat at an out-of-the-way table. Now in the quiet pub atmosphere Cecilia felt much calmer. "You don't actually have to tell me," he added, leaning back in his chair. "You can tell me to keep my nose out."

"Its nothing, now," she said, "just me being silly about everything." She sighed. Since her…misunderstanding with Snape; the twins' practical jokes, that awful business she'd read about in Tonks's report, having to travel by Floo again and now the problem in the bank, Cecilia reckoned the last day was not shaping up to be one of her best.

"I heard about the practical jokes. The twins are actually sorry," he said, smiling kindly at her. "In fact, I've never seen Ron get annoyed with them about a prank before." Cecilia said nothing for a moment, trying to get her thoughts in order.

"Remus, did you know I needed a permit to be here?"

The smile on Remus's face gradually turned to horror and he leaned forward, one hand over his mouth.

"Oh no," he said. "Cecilia I'm so sorry I forgot to mention to Dumbledore you were coming with us today." He looked at Cecilia, his eyes full of regret. "Yes, I did know." Cecilia sighed, and smiled back.

"Not to worry," she said, tapping her handbag. "I've got one now, I just hope Professor Dumbledore isn't too angry with me."

"Why should he be angry with you?"

"Well, because I had to tell the goblin that I was working for him," she explained, trying not to let her mind dwell on the man who'd sat next to her. "Dumbledore asked me not to say anything to anyone." Should she mention it to Remus? She'd have to mention the notebook though, which means she'd have to mention Snape.

"However could you think that was your fault?" Remus shook his head. "If anything, I should have stayed with you. If anyone's to blame, it's me." He leaned over and took his hand in hers. "I agreed to make sure you were safe."

"Well I am," said Cecilia brightly, "No harm done," she added and before she could stop herself said, "Could you give me a straight answer about my safety Remus? I would be grateful for an honest answer." The easy expression that had reappeared on Remus's face went.

"Cecilia," began Remus, looking uncomfortable. "I don't think am actually the right person to be talking to you about this. However I do believe that you need to know what you're up against. Perhaps you could tell me what you already know? Do you know about…Voldermort?" He almost whispered the name.

"Yes," said Cecilia, thinking back to last night's conversation with Harry. "I know about the wizards that follow him. I know what they do to muggles. And I know that the Order of the Phoenix had been set up before when Voldermort was powerful before." The last bit she'd pieced together from the many conversations that had taken place last night.

"Then there's actually very little I need to tell you," said Remus. "The Death Eaters are members of very respectable wizard families. If ever they should find out that you are a muggle, not only could that jeopardise the order, but your life would be in extreme danger." He swallowed and shifted in his chair.

"Their beliefs are appealing to ordinary wizards because of the promise of job promotions and riches. There are some Death Eaters whose beliefs are so extreme they go out hunting for pleasure."

Cecilia shuddered, recalling the trip she had made several years ago to the Holocaust exhibition at the Imperial War Museum. All you needed to do was change the name Voldermort to Adolf Hitler…. She realised Remus was touching her hand again.

"That's what the Order is fighting," said Remus "Were it not for a few unlucky moves the last time, Voldermort would have been killed sixteen years ago. This time, we will succeed. We have muggles on our side now, Cecilia. We have you, with skills and wisdom that he has no understanding of. That gives us head start."

"Wotcher," came a voice nearby. "I wondered where you lot had got to. Remus, I thought you were coming back to M&S?" Remus looked up at Tonks, about to admit he'd forgotten, but Cecilia cut in.

"Sorry," she said, "it was my fault. I got all flustered at the bank, and the goblins frightened me. Remus was kind enough to wait until I was ready." Cecilia looked at Remus, who smiled gratefully back. "Did you buy anything?" Tonks shook her head.

"No, but I saw some great things that would look fab on you," she said. "Turquoise dress robes, gorgeous cloaks, broom guards, the works."

"Well, I don't think I'll need robes any time soon," laughed Cecilia. "When would I wear them? I mean, am I even allowed to wear them?"

"Course," said Tonks, pulling up a stool. "Why wouldn't you be? They're not just for wizards, and besides when you become –" But Cecilia did not get to find out what she might become, because Mr and Mrs Weasley and the children had seen the and were approaching.

"Chaps, I've ordered lunch," said Mr Weasley. "Ploughman's lunches all round, is that OK?" Mrs Weasley looked at him. "The ministry tab. They owe me some expenses," he explained.

Over lunch, the Ron and Harry showed Cecilia what they'd bought; an odd collection of bits and pieces: quills; ink; something for waxing on a broom handle and some things that Cecilia could not begin to make out their function to be. Hermione, having picked up on Cecilia's confusion, began to explain what they all were, much to the amusement of Harry and Ron.

"Hey, that's not mine," said Ron, a few moments later. He grabbed a packet out of Hermione's hand. He was about to throw it in the direction of the twins, but Mrs Weasley caught Ron's hand in mid-projectile.

"Boom Boom Bath Bombs," she said, reading the label of the packet aloud slowly to Fred and George, giving them a look which would most definitely have frightened even Snape. They said nothing hanging their heads slightly. Mrs Weasley handed the bath bombs to Mr Weasley, giving him an "I've had it, now it your turn" look.

"Did you buy that book in the end?" asked Hermione, changing the subject. Cecilia shook her head, swallowing some hard-boiled egg.

"But I'm going back for it now I've got some wizard money," she said, pausing from her lunch and reached for the pouch of wizard money. "Which reminds me, can you tell me about these coins?" she asked the children, pulling out one of each from the pouch.

"That one's a galleon," said Hermione, "and the silver one is a sickle. That bronze one is a knut."

"A nut?" said Cecilia, thinking it didn't resemble any type of nut she'd ever seen before. Hermione sighed, and patiently talked Cecilia through the denominations.

After lunch, she headed back with Tonks to M&S. Her brain was now addled with thought of how many knuts were in a galleon and was surprised when Tonks entered a small shop five minutes' walk away from the Leaky Cauldron.

The sign on the door read, "Deirdre Emaness – Clothing for the Discerning Witch." Underneath, in smaller letters, it read, "No job to big or small, alterations of size and colour while you wait."

Oh, thought Cecilia, not M and S…Emaness. How silly of me, she thought. She followed Tonks in, through a small reception area into a huge shop floor. It was lit from above and beautiful white light shimmered down, bathing the many rails of clothes in opulent light.

Cecilia glanced at the rails. Some clothes looked like ones she would definitely have found in muggle shops: dresses, trousers, tops, you name it, in a wide range of styles. She was about to pull out some smart looking black trousers when Tonks called her over.

"This is what I was talking about," she said, holding up a set of robes. They were beautiful. The fabric was made as if the threads were continuous, and matching buttons lined the front edge. A small curved pattern outlined the collar and around the wide sleeves, and it was lined with much finer fabric. Cecilia touched it, feeling the material glide over her skin.

"Great, isn't it?" said Tonks. "I bet this would really suit you." She held open the sleeves of the gown for Cecilia to slip on. But it's a wizard's robe, though Cecilia, looking uncertain. I can't wear that.

"Come on," said Tonks, impatiently. "If you don't like the turquoise, we can change it anything you like." Okay, thought Cecilia, here goes nothing. She stuck one arm in, and then another, the oversize fabric drowning her. Suddenly the material changed, and the robe began to feel fitted across her back.

"Take a look," said Tonks pointing to a mirror. When she looked, Cecilia gasped. She looked stunning. The material fitted perfectly, and didn't cling to her hips, but skimmed her waist and fell to shoe height.

"Told you you'd like it," said Tonks, as Cecilia beamed at her. "Turquoise is so you. But what about…yellow?" she pulled her wand out of her jacket, and waved it past Cecilia's arm.

"No," said Cecilia, as the canary-coloured hue filtered through the robe. "I don't think it's me." Just then, the shopkeeper approached them.

"Can I help you ladies? We have a special offer this week: complementary frock with any dress robe."

"Thanks Madam Emaness," said Tonks, smiling at the witch. "Don't know how long we'll be here yet, you always have such a fantastic range to choose from." Madam Emaness smiled.

"Nymphadora, you know you can take as much time as you please" she said. Cecilia noticed Tonks cringe and she suppressed a giggle. "I'll be out here if you need me."

"Nymphadora?" asked Cecilia, innocently.

"I came to the conclusion long ago that mum must have been on the home brew when she came up with that one," Tonks conceded, and turned back to Cecilia. "So, not yellow then? What about…fuchsia?"

Cecilia and Tonks spent the afternoon going through practically everything Madam Emaness had to offer. They tried on dresses, skirts and tops, jumpers and shoes. Cecilia had wondered where the changing rooms were and was amazed when Tonks had flicked her wand, and…Cecilia gasped as she saw herself wearing the dress she'd just had folded over her arm.

Tonks had chosen some jeans, plain jerseys, a new work robe for work, and a rocker-type t-shirt, making Cecilia promise not to tell Remus she had it. "He doesn't think its feminine wearing this kind of thing," she whispered, conspiratorially. "Better buy two, then" whispered back Cecilia, and both of them burst out into fits of giggles.

It was only when Madam Emaness came to inform them that she would be closing in a quarter of an hour did they hurriedly collect together everything they wanted to buy. Cecilia wondered where the time had gone, and had a vague feeling that despite the morning's events she'd actually enjoyed herself.

"Are you going to have the dress robe?" asked Tonks, as they headed to the reception.

"I'm still not sure," said Cecilia, slipping on the robe she'd tried on first again. It wasn't because she didn't like it; the robe was gorgeous she thought, as she looked at her reflection. But she wondered whether it would be appropriate. What if they thought she was taking the mick, mocking their way of life?

"I would much prefer it in black," said Cecilia. If Tonks ended up persuading her, she might as well at least have it in the colour that suited her best. And besides, she didn't have to wear it, she could just keep it out of the way.

"Black?" asked Tonks, uncertainly. "Are you sure? Not a bright colour?" Cecilia shook her head. Tonks flicked her wand and the robe darkened. Wow. I could actually believe I don't need to lose a couple of stone, thought Cecilia to herself.

"Happy with that?" asked Madam Emaness. "If you are going for that robe, please let me show you the matching frocks." Cecilia chose a long dress made of the same fabric as the robe and, as she picked it up, the frock's colour flooded from turquoise to black. Marvelling at such a versatile shop, she followed Tonks and they paid for the clothes.

Cecilia felt happy. She'd never found shopping for clothes that exhilarating, and to be honest she hadn't been looking forward to it. But she'd just had one of the most enjoyable afternoons of recent months and realised that, with at least one aspect of wizard life, she was fitting in.

88888888

They arrived back at Grimmauld place an hour later. Cecilia had asked Tonks if they could return to Flourish and Blotts so she could buy, "Magic and Muggles" and they had popped into Boutes, the potion shop.

Tonks had bought a tonic for her skin and Cecilia, had been astounded for about the eightieth time that day at what a shop on Diagonalley had to offer, and picked up an owl-order catalogue, intending to look for anything that might help towards her research. She'd barely thought about work all day, but now the shopping trip was over, the thought of returning to Hogwarts and, more to the point, working with Snape, was beginning to prey on her mind.

"Time to go," Tonks had said, as she pushed the potion into her inside pocket and they headed back down Diagonalley.

"Can't wait to see what the others have bought, I remember how much fun it was shopping for school with mum," she'd said wistfully. They passed the shop with the brooms, and Cecilia had stopped, looking at the team shirts advertised in the window.

"Quidditch," said Tonks. "The best game out there."

"Nothing beats a good game of footy," Cecilia had whispered, half to herself. Tim liked football. Cecilia loved seeing him off with his best friend on Saturdays, pretending that she care little for the game. She'd busy herself with something wifely, like making a cake or doing the ironing, but with the radio on, listening out for the score, knowing that her Tim was watching it.

"We can go to a game, if you like," Tonks had said, continuing to walk back down Diagonalley. "Having said that though, since the embarrassment that was the World Cup, I'm not sure you'd want to. They have quidditch at Hogwarts though. Here we are," she said, as they reached the Leaky Cauldron again.

The journey back if anything had been worse than the previous morning, and Cecilia had dropped her shopping near the fireplace when they arrived, dashing upstairs to the bathroom.

Though she hadn't been sick, she did feel very ill, and made a note to herself to find out about other wizardly modes of transport.

When she went back downstairs, she noticed that the kitchen and living room was busy with about twenty-or-so people. She recognised a few of them; Charlie Weasley was sitting talking to Fred and George; Remus was chatting to another wizard over by the fireplace; Benjamin Wergs was pointing things out to Tonks at the kitchen table. Tonks looked up momentarily and then walked over to Cecilia.

"Feeling better? I put your shopping in your room."

"Who is everyone?" asked Cecilia, gazing round at the faces.

"The Order," said Tonks. "There's a meeting tonight."

Before Cecilia could reply, Mrs Weasley interrupted them.

"Cecilia, how are you dear?" Before Cecilia could reply, she continued. "Professor Dumbledore is here, he would like to speak to you." Cecilia nodded, smiling at Tonks and followed Mrs Weasley through a door which opened for them as they approached in the oak panelling. She gestured towards Dumbledore, and left.

The room was furnished in much the same as the one where she had met Dumbledore the first time she'd got to Grimmauld Place – old-man's study effect, despite the room being in a different place in the house. Not much the same, thought Cecilia, noticing the flowers on the coffee table, it _was_ the same, and the effect gave her the impression the room had been folded away until it was needed again.

"Ah, Cecilia," said Dumbledore, rising from a winged-backed chair. "Did you have a successful shopping expedition?"

"Yes, Professor," she said. "I am sorry for not informing you I was going, and for any inconvenience with the bank." She breathed, hoping it was the right thing to say.

"Not at all, no inconvenience," he said, waving his and downwards as he began to pace. "I asked Remus and Severus to inform me when you were likely to need a permit. Remus apologises for his oversight," he added.

"However, I must ask Cecilia, do you have anything you wish to tell me?"

Cecilia paused. She hadn't actually been expecting that, and was at a loss as to what to say and images of her conversation with the blonde-haired man crept into her mind. When she didn't reply, Dumbledore gestured towards the sofa for her to sit, and sat back down himself on the wing-backed chair.

"Professor Snape told me about yesterday afternoon. He regrets his actions, Cecilia. He wishes you to know he lost his temper, something which he understands cannot happen again if you are to work together in the future."

"You're asking me whether I will return to the research?" asked Cecilia. "I know he's sorry, but he doesn't seem to realise that I know. As far as I'm concerned it never happened."

"And yet…" prompted Dumbledore.

"I have to admit, returning here was a convenient reason to leave yesterday, however you must understand Professor, I would have wanted a break anyway."

"Of course," said Dumbledore gently. "I could hardly expect you to remain in Hogwarts for the entire duration of your research."

"Professor," began Cecilia. She wanted to ask him about what she had found on the parchment last night, and why Snape had acted in the way he had. Dumbledore held up his hand.

"It is not my place to discuss the reason why Severus lost his temper. That is his privilege, should he so choose." It's like he's reading my mind, thought Cecilia, and swallowed.

"I always intended to return," said Cecilia. "I mean that now, as much as last night. However I still don't think I am going to get entirely to the bottom of this research unless I know fully what is involved. I don't care how disturbing it might be, or how much danger I could be in. I made a commitment, and I believe what I'm doing is important." Dumbledore looked at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles and rose, pacing the carpet again.

"You are indeed right," he said. "You cannot be expected to make such a commitment unless you know what is going on around you." He paused and looked at Cecilia. "It is for this reason that I wish you to become a member of Order of the Phoenix. The position will be honorary, but this aside, you have entirely the same status as every other member, and you will be entitled to know what they know."

Cecilia stared back at Dumbledore, thinking guiltily about person she had met at the bank.

"Professor," she began. "I am grateful of your trust in me," she said, and pressed on, refusing to allow her mind to thing, lest it stopped her. "You asked me earlier whether I had something you wished me to tell you. " She swallowed and continued.

"Today in the bank, a wizard sat next to me. I'd put down some of the things out of my handbag on the chair next to me, one of those being a book Professor Snape gave to me to communicate with him. A wizard picked it up, and asked which Professor I was working with at Hogwarts. I said I couldn't remember his name." There, it was off her chest. Whatever happened next, at least her conscience was clear.

Silence reigned for a few moments, until Dumbledore approached her again. Cecilia stood up.

"I am truly grateful for you telling me that, Cecilia," he said, patting her lightly on the back. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Mrs Weasley entered.

"Everyone's here, Professor," she said, looking slightly flustered. "And I mean everyone. We're so full in the kitchen, Bathsheba and Charlie are having to hover at the back."

"Very well, Molly", he said, and turned to Cecilia. "Cecilia, please allow me to escort you to your first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix."

88888888

As soon as she entered the kitchen, she realised Mrs Weasley was right. The place was packed, filled with murmurs and an undercurrent of noise as everyone was speaking to each other at once. Mrs Weasley was right, there was nowhere left to sit, so she stood near the corner by the door, out of the way.

She surveyed the faces; there were people she'd met before, Remus and Tonks sitting next to Mr Weasley; Bathsheba, Dedalus and Benjamin; Moody, who'd appeared at her house with Snape after the break in; and near the back by the cooker, Bill Weasley and another witch were engaged in what looked like a lively conversation.

She scanned round the room, thinking about all of the people here. They were fighting for what they believed in too. Even if Cecilia wasn't like them, she had seen what this dark magic could do and it had repulsed her.

Then, her train of thought was derailed as her gaze landed on a face. Not exactly handsome…but certainly if he were younger, Cecilia thought considering his strong features, quite attractive. There was something about him, a presence; an air.

Just then, this wizard caught her gaze. His dark eyes locked with hers for what seemed to Cecilia like aeons. They projected wild excitement, with a hint of danger, as if he would, given the chance, throw caution to the wind for the fun of it. But… there was also…a feeling of inner sorrow, reflected back from the incaution, and Cecilia wondered vaguely to its cause. With a deal of effort, realising how silly she must look, she broke the connection and looked back at Dumbledore who was now standing up waiting to address them.

"Wizards and witches of the Order, may I have your attention, please. We have a lot to get through tonight, and time is pressing. May I begin with apologies. Minerva cannot make it this evening; she has some pressing work to do for the Scottish Witches Institute. Mr Weasley, if you would kindly ensure she gets a copy of the minutes," he said, looking up. Mr Weasley nodded, and continued to write.

"Also, Severus Snape, who is otherwise engaged on Order business." There were one or two sniggers from various parts of the room, which were hurriedly stifled as Dumbledore looked round.

"Now, I would like to start with the shift pattern for the Aurors. The guard rota I have here, please circulate it. If there are any problems you wish to raise with me, please do so. Alastor informs me that main areas of concern have been amicably agreed, which means you each have one more shift than last month." Moody nodded and stood up.

"Thank you," he said, his eye roaming the room independently. "We have organised that some squibs, loyal to us that they are," he added nodding towards Dumbledore, "to work in the Marylebone area. Extra vigilance!" he shouted, looking fiercely round the room.

"Should there be a repeat of the muggle attacks last night, we are sure to catch the perpetrators." He continued to look round the kitchen. Cecilia shivered, and folded her arms over her chest, thinking about the moving images she'd seen last night. Another wizard stood up.

"I have the report from Azkaban this month. The wizards suspected of being Death Eaters have not revealed anything under interrogation. I have been trying to get myself to every interview, and I managed to get hold of security images, but nothing had been said."

"Thank you Sturgis," said Dumbledure, but Sturgis remained on his feet. "You have something else to add?" Sturgis nodded.

"Yes, we have a witness in London, a squib from a highly respected family, who came to the Ministry of Magic last week. He was interviewed by Fudge, but apparently Fudge didn't believe anything he said."

"I was fortunate to still be at work when he arrived, it being about 9pm, and I walked back towards the muggle underground with him. He was rather annoyed at Fudge and he described two wizards to me who he suspected of leaving a muggle residence. The descriptions he gave match those of Macnair and Wilberforce, who as we all know have long been considered followers of You-Know-Who."

"Whereabouts did the man say he'd seen these men?" asked Benjamin, interrupting quickly

"Hackney," replied Sturgis, "Queen's Parade."

"It was reported in the muggle papers this week that an old woman was murdered in flats in Hackney," said Benjamin. "The newspaper said the muggle police had a difficult case on their hands because there were no marks on her body and were at a loss to know how she died."

"Thank you Benjamin. Perhaps you and Sturgis could visit the squib and follow this up between you?" asked Dumbledore. The two wizards nodded at one another. Cecilia, who had been listening intently to the proceedings, now noticed that one or two wizards were looking between her and Dumbledore.

Following Sturgis's information, another wizard discussed the possibility of You-Know-Who or Death Eaters targeting muggle politicians at a conference that was to begin in September. Another wizard wondered whether he knew of such things and cover was extended to the event.

Dumbledore then went on to discuss Harry Potter. At the mention of his name Cecilia's ears pricked up and gave her full attention to what Dumbledore was saying. He told the Order that Harry would be returning again to Hogwarts, and that his security was the utmost importance following the return of Voldermort. He praised Harry's skill in overcoming Voldermort at the Triwizard Championship, and Cecilia wondered what he could mean.

"Yes Doris?" said Dumbledore as an elderly witch raised her hand. She stood up.

"How can we be assured that Harry will continue to be safe at Hogwarts? We know he had to use magic again this summer, and he got into trouble with the Ministry."

"That was when he was with the muggles," said another wizard, nearer the front. "You know, I really don't understand why you don't just allow him to stay here with Sirius," he said. Cecilia turned in the direction the wizard was motioning and noticed the dark-eyed man fold his arms, and rest his head on his chin.

"Sebastian, I must ask you to trust my judgement when I say, to all here," Dumbledore looked round the kitchen, taking in the Order members, "that until he is Of Age, Harry must remain with his Aunt and Uncle when he is not at Hogwarts."

"But they're muggles!" exclaimed Doris over the low hubbub that had begun. At her words, it began to die down and Cecilia realised that everyone was looking at her. Dumbledore gave her a small smile.

"Perhaps now is a good opportunity to introduce Mrs Cecilia Frobisher who, I am sure you recall from our last meeting, I have recruited to assist Severus." Everyone was looking at her now, and she noticed an element of uncertainty express itself in the eyes of some of the wizards.

"Their progress is significant and it is vital. It is for this reason that I wish to propose Mrs Frobisher as a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

The room went quiet momentarily, then suddenly erupted. Everyone began to speak at once, some were shouting at one another, with furious gestures towards Cecilia. A voice from the back of the room declared with fervour that if a muggle became a member of the Order, he would quit then and there. Another wizard actually got to his feet and looked as if he was about to challenge Dumbledore to his face.

Cecilia looked around. If she had known that it would cause this much hostility, she would never have suggested needing more information.

Dumbledore attempted to call order. He boomed over the noise, which subsided a little, trying to gain their attention. Much of the volume died away, but there was still an undercurrent of unrest.

"If our strategy is to work, Mrs Frobisher must be privy to the information we possess. I wish to propose her as a member," he repeated. "However I cannot make you accept my proposition."

The noise began to grow again, and the wizard who had almost spoken out to Dumbledore shouted, "She's got no idea. It won't be her risking her neck like we all have. She couldn't possibly comprehend what we're all up against!"

How could these people possibly say she didn't understand? Ok, she didn't know who this Voldermort was, and wasn't personally connected to this in the way that they were. But she had been sickened to her stomach when she read Tonks's report; the people he and his followers were killing were muggles. They were people, actual people here; her fellow countrymen. Of course she cared…

Before she realised she had done it, Cecilia had moved over to near where Dumbledore was standing, and began to speak loudly, trying to combat the noise. Dumbledore stood back for her and allowed her to take his place.

"I do," she was saying, "I do understand…" The room fell quiet when they realised she was speaking.

"I er…" she faltered, when she realised she had their attention.

"I, er, actually when I came, I didn't understand. You are quite right there," she said, gesturing to a wizard to her left who had pointed that put moments before. "I didn't understand fully what I was taking on when Professor Dumbledore took me on. I took the job to begin with because I was initially intrigued about magic, and wizards. I wondered what on earth you would want that I had the skills for." She looked round the room, catching everyone's eye in turn. She noticed Remus smile, and she felt a bit more relaxed.

"But I have seen the effects of this dark magic which you are all fighting so very hard to defeat." Cecilia inhaled, bandied on her feelings which she was now sharing with virtual strangers.

"Those people you call muggles, the non-magical population of this country, people like me, they are suffering, dying because of these dark wizards. It very much does involve me if the next person attacked is my sister, or my mum or my hus…" she caught herself, and swallowed, "…other people I know and care about," she said.

"I feel privileged to be in a position where I can do something about this; a lot of muggles cannot. Regardless of whether you wish me to be a member of the Order, I will continue with this work as long as Professor Dumbledore needs me, and as long as what I can sacrifice of myself goes in any way to fight this." She stopped, and smiled a little, indicating she was finished.

The kitchen was now silent, and, just as Cecilia wondered what would happen next, a solitary sound started. It was Remus – he was applauding. Then Tonks joined in, next the Mr and Mrs Weasley. A few wizards on the front looked steadfast, but nearly half of the wizards there were clapping now.

Cecilia looked round at Dumbledore who was smiling warmly at her, and she stood back from the table. She felt happier now; some of the wizards supported her, and even if none of them had, she had meant what she'd said. She would continue the work as long as she was needed. Dumbledore stood up.

"Now, as I was saying, I cannot force you to accept Mrs Frobisher as a member of the Order." He placed a piece of parchment on the table. "However my proposition stands. It is your duty now to vote. Please raise your hand if you accept Mrs Frobisher into the Order of the Phoenix."

A number of hands were raised, though many of them were slow in doing so; some of the members were still looking at each other questioningly.

"Eleven," said Dumbledore, counting the hands. He gesture towards he parchment on the table. "And I have here the decisions of Minerva and Severus. They also accept you as a member," he said, addressing Cecilia.

"Now, please raise your hands if you do not accept Mrs Frobisher as a member….thirteen." he said, nodding slightly. "A tie." Cecilia wondered what that meant now. Dumbledore looked at Sirius, who had kept his arms resolutely folded since Cecilia had got up to speak. His mouth was set firm, as if forcing himself not to say anything.

"Sirius, I notice that you did not vote either way. Do you need longer to make up your mind?" Dumbledore looked at him, and Sirius looked between Dumbledore and Cecilia. She noticed that the room was again silent.

"No," said Sirius slowly, "I don't need any more time." His voice was edgy as if, to Cecilia, a little nervous. .

"Please can we hear your vote?" More silence reigned, and the wizards of the Order looked between Sirius and Cecilia. He raised his hand.

"Is that for my proposal, Sirius?" asked Dumbledore, and despite herself, Cecilia held her breath.

"Yes," he said. Cecilia exhaled, and smiled. Dumbledore surveyed the Order again and beamed.

"In that case, could you all welcome Cecilia Frobisher as our newest member of the Order of the Phoenix". The kitchen is filled with applause again, and Cecilia smiled. She caught Sirius's glance and he was smiling too, his eyes twinkling.

When the meeting was over, Remus hurried over to congratulate her, shaking her firmly by the hand.

"That speech of yours" he said, smiling, "it really touched me…"

"In the head, probably," laughed Tonks. "Just kidding Cecilia," she added, "come on," she said, pulling Remus away into the living room. Mrs Weasley hurried over, beaming.

"Congratulations," she began, and stopped, unsure of what to say.

"Thanks" she said, "but it's not really a celebration. I meant what I said, so I'm sure I've got my work cut out now, to live up to those promises I made." Mrs Weasley smiled, and tapped her shoulder.

"We have every confidence in you," she said, turning to Mr Weasley as she spoke, indicating she included him in her comment. "I know you'll succeed in this." They turned and left the kitchen, and Cecilia proceeded upstairs, intending to go to bed. As she climbed the stairs, she jumped, hearing the sounds of disapparating wizards in the living room.

Cecilia turned to enter her room, but paused, wondering whether she had been pranked again. She carefully opened the door, peering inside. She couldn't see anything unusual about the room as she switched on he light, but just to be safe she pulled her still-packed shopping bags and propped them against the door.

Ten minutes later, having had a shower and feeling quite ready for bed now, she closed the door behind her, giving it a quick pull just after she shut it, just in case and turned, walking back to the bed.

The Order, she thought, considering the evening. So now I am able to know what they know. Is that a good thing, she wondered. Considering the last couple of days, she wasn't entirely sure.

Just then her eye caught the large paper bag which contained the "Magic and Muggles" book she had bought from Flourish and Blotts. She crossed the room and removed it from the bag, idly flicking to page 127. Her eye came across a paragraph titled, "Are wizards born or made?"

She looked up from the book, as she sat on the edge of the bed. A very interesting question she thought. Were they made? It could be argued so, if you consider they go to school to learn magic, and that they have to practice to become better. An easy answer there then.

Were the born? She put down the book next to her, the pages she'd been looking at still open, and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Hermione said her parents were muggles, but she was a witch. Tonks…she sat back up again, and looked down at the page again. Tonks's father was a muggle, and her mother a witch….

So witches and wizards can be born, even if one of their parents is non-magical, she concluded. She ran that sentence through her mind, and an image of a chart, interlinking the witches with their respective families formed. Cecilia got up quickly and dashed to her handbag for a pencil and paper. Paper, paper, she thought, eventually tipping the contents out onto the floor. When she couldn't find any she tore the "18th August" page out of her diary. At least it would be useful for something she thought, sitting back down on the bed.

She drew her mind's image, using a dotted line from Hermione's parents to her, and using a solid line down to Hermione. Another she drew connecting Tonks with her father with a similar line, and a solid line with her mother. Cecilia glanced back at the open book again, then back at her diagrams, and a thought struck her.

"If I'm not very much mistaken," she said aloud, "this looks suspiciously like…they're magical because of something they inherit, or not from their parents…" her voice trailed off and she got to her feet.

"Hermione's parents are non-magical," she said aloud, yet she is a witch. And Tonks is a witch, and one of her parents is non-magical." Cecilia crossed back to the bed and underneath the diagrams she drew, she drew two four-by-four boxes, marking in letters for genetic combinations.

When she was happy with what she'd written she turned the book to the index, and looked down for "genetics". There was no entry. Quickly, she tried "inheritance". Nothing. Leafing through the pages quickly she looked for "birth", and turned to the page number given.

Cecilia scanned the page, looking for any clue that she may be right, but the details were sketchy, just giving indications of pure blood wizards, and the same narrative of half-blood and muggle-born wizards.

Damn, she said to herself. But it seemed so likely. She folded the pages of "Magic and Muggles" closed, with the diagram she had drawn sandwiched between the pages.

It has to be to do with what the children inherit from their parents, it must do. Muggles inherit genes and DNA, so wizard children with muggle parents must inherit at least something from their parents. Just then, the "Slytherin'" exercise book caught her eye. It was lying near her bag, by the rest of the contents she had tipped out of it. Of course. Severus would know.

She grabbed the book and, turning to the first page wrote, "I suspect there may be a genetic link connecting non-magic and wizard people," she wrote. She rubbed the end of the quill across her bottom lip absently. What else should I say?

Perhaps I should say I am ready to begin work again she thought, but a voice in her head replied, but you're not. "It's vital that I discuss this with you at a time most convenient to you. Cecilia." There. At least now he will know I wish to work with him again, and at least this might be a solid start.

Feeling exhilarated, she put down "Magic and Muggles" on the chair in her room, and pulled out "Mysterious Mythology." Tomorrow, she told herself. I'll read them tomorrow with a clear head. She pulled on a nightgown and turned off the light, getting into bed and snuggling down. As the coolness of the covers met her warm legs, she idly hoped that it hadn't been bugged, metaphorically or actually.

After about half an hour, Cecilia sat back up in the dark. Her mind was racing, urging her to get up and read through the books again and she knew she wouldn't get any sleep if she ignored it.

Well let's at least get "Mysterious Mythology finished tonight, she thought, as she redressed. And I'm feeling hungry too, she thought, and realised she hadn't actually had anything since lunch in the leaky cauldron. Quietly she exited her room, carrying the book, her diary and a pen down with her.

She glanced around the living room as she got to the bottom of the stairs, but it was empty, everyone having presumably either left or gone to bed. She flicked on the main light, and proceeded to the kitchen, switching on that light too.

Dumping the things she was carrying on the table, she randomly opened cupboards in search of something to eat, and glanced round for the kettle. When she had found neither any food nor the kettle, she sat down, cursing herself again for not remembering that she was in the company of wizards, who did catering their way.

Never mind, she thought, pulling herself up a chair, nibbling the knuckle on her index finder absently. She opened "MM" to page thirty-seven and began to read the story there, about a baker in London who tried and tried to make the best buns in town.

He found that the finer the flour he used the best buns and bread he could make. So he made the flour so fine, he was happy to bake buns for the king so he left the oven on overnight, but a spark caused the finely sieved flour to catch on fire…

Why did that sound familiar, thought Cecilia and yawned, turning over a page. Half an hour later, Cecilia was a third of the way down a page when she was interrupted. She looked up to see a man standing in the doorway smiling at her, a rich, dark smile. It was Sirius.

"So," he said, approaching her "A member of the Order", said a voice, rich and smooth as honey. "You're the first muggle ever to be granted such high an honour." He smiled, and Cecilia found, despite herself, being drawn into his dark gaze, and unconsciously closed "Mysterious Mythology."

Closer to, he seemed slightly younger; his eyes seemed brighter with a hint of merriment. But not entirely; Cecilia thought she could see storm clouds brooding deeper within. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped, as he closed the kitchen door behind him.

"Sirius", he said, "Welcome to my home. If you could call it that," he added grimly glancing round the kitchen. Cecilia thought back to her first morning. So, this was the mysterious wizard, owner of Grimmauld Place, Harry's godfather. She thought back to her first morning. So he was the one who Remus had been chasing after on her first morning there.

He extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, at last." She took it. His grip was quite tight, and her fingers felt a bit numb afterwards.

"I knew a muggle once," he continued, pulling up a chair beside her. "Sweet young thing, " he mused, then looked back at Cecilia. "It must be such a burden for you bear, all this information," he said, glancing down at the closed book. Cecilia glanced at him, and a small shiver went through her.

"I really must be getting to bed," she said uncertainly. Why? a voice asked her, in her mind. You'd much rather stay here and talk to Sirius…

"You're welcome here as long as you please," he said, "as you're a member of the Order, and as this is our headquarters." Cecilia sat back down on the chair. OK, she said back to her mind, you win.

"Ah," he said, glancing down at "Mysterious Mythology", "Remus's old book. He sneaked it to Hogwarts once, but his mum sent a howler to him, and made him hand it over to Dumbledore. Can I get you anything? A drink perhaps?"

"Tea would be lovely", said Cecilia, smiling. The research really will have to wait till tomorrow then, she thought.

Sirius removed his wand from his back pocket and, with a swish, two cups and a pot of tea stood on the kitchen table. He quickly poured the tea, adding the milk. Cecilia hated milk in her tea, but said nothing.

"So, whereabouts do you live, Cecilia? Is it nice?"

"Better than here," she said, smiling over her cup. Sirius snorted.

"Anywhere's better than here. Grimsby docks would be better than here," he said. "You're married, then?" he added, glancing at Cecilia's right hand.

"Not any more," she said, "my husband died a few months ago. Yourself?" she added, determined to direct the focus of the conversation off her.

"No," he said, "Never found the right girl. But thirteen years in prison for something I didn't do doesn't really help," he said bitterly, and then brightened. "Tea OK?"

She looked down at her cup and took a sip. Urgh! She hadn't had tea with milk in since she was sixteen and the taste was quite horrible.

"So," he continued, "You're working with Snape then, how's that all going?"

"All right actually. He takes a bit of getting used to, though."

"Ha!" said Sirius, moving his chair a bit closer to her. "I'd have thought it would take a geological age to get used old Snivellus," he said.

"Snivellus?"

"Yes, just his school nickname only his best friends were allowed to call him by." A smirk passed over his lips. Was that sarcasm?

"Severus isn't that bad, actually", said Cecilia. Only ten minutes ago she was feeling fine, but now, tiredness was creeping up on her.

"You're not serious! And here I was thinking you were a sensible muggle, Cecilia."

"You don't get on, then?" she asked innocently. An expression crossed Sirius's face as if Cecilia had just made the understatement of the century.

"Not really," he replied. "Difference of opinion." He paused, and repositioned himself, so he was looking directly at Cecilia.

"You're getting on well then, working together. Bet it must be strange for you to find out about wizards, and magic"

"You don't say." she laughed, and turned to face him. "But then stranger things have happened to me."

"Really?" said Sirius, with an incredulous smile.

"No!" said Cecilia, giggling now. What on earth had come over her?

"So do you know what you're looking for? What's the research about?"

Cecilia blinked; her head seemed a bit light. She paused, swallowing. What do I say? She promised Snape she wouldn't say anything to anyone…

"What is it you're doing with Snape? Tell me. Promise it won't go any further." he coaxed, leaning towards her.

Cecilia began to speak irrespective of what her brain was trying urgently to tell her.

"Professor Dumbledore said we are looking for the connection between muggles and wizards. Remus gave me his book, " she gestured vaguely in the direction of "Mysterious Mythology", "and I think its got a generic connection."

Bloody hell, she thought to herself, what happened there? For some reason despite her best intentions, when this man asked her, she was compelled to answer. Cecilia couldn't think straight, and she stood up, trying to breathe a bit slower. Maybe she needed a sleep.

"How are you two getting on then?" Cecilia thought back to the evening, on her second day when Remus gave her "Mysterious Mythology".

"He's a lovely man…," she said, her voice trailing off, ignoring the embarrassment that her mind was telling her she should feel about their encounter.

"Snivellus!" said Sirius in disbelief.

"Oh, Severus?" giggled Cecilia. What was the matter with her? She couldn't control what she was saying. "Great," she began, as her mind switched to the events of the previous evening "but…"

"But?"

She sighed, trying to concentrate. No, she told herself. Stop!

"Yesterday…", said Cecilia, her mind running over the events of yesterday afternoon in the dungeon. She rubbed her left wrist absently.

"What happened? What did he do?" Cecilia didn't want to answer. She tried not to let the words escape her mouth. She'd promised not to say anything, so why was she? It was like a dream. Sirius was asking these questions…

"I'd found something in a book and he got angry when he found out I'd read it. He grabbed it off me..." she looked down.

"The work then, is there anything else to it?" Sirius got up to join her, standing close, as if they were sharing one big secret. He tilted her head so she was looking into his deep dark eyes. Again Cecilia spoke despite trying not to.

"Severus told me something about a young wizard, a boy who'd lost his parents when he was a baby." She looked up questioningly at Sirius.

He was close to her now, his hips leaning next to hers, his body curling round her. She wanted more than anything to push past him to run away.

"No," said Sirius, almost a whisper. He cleared his throat and drew back slightly from her. "It sounds intriguing. What do you need his boy for?"

"Not entirely sure, but it's something to do with his powers."

He suddenly stood tall, towering over her.

"What about his powers?" he demanded.

"We've got to investigate their nature. Study them." What _was_ going on? She wanted to remain silent, to leave, but she was rooted to the spot and something was making her speak when she was asked a question, to answer it truthfully, like it was over-riding her mind. She had to get out of there.

"Why, what are you going to do with him?" He gripped the top of her arms, and she could feel the power in his hands

"I don't know"

"But you have a plan, you and….Snivellus", he spat the words at her. Cecilia tried to push past him. She was feeling very sick. She couldn't get a clear focus in her mind; her mind's eye was fuzzy, and she felt confused and tired.

"Please," she said, but he blocked her way.

"What are you going to do to him?"

"Powers," stammered Cecilia, dropping her head. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"What about them?" His voice was icy, but she tried to keep control, fighting herself. When she didn't answer, he yelled, "TELL me, you little fool!" . Cecilia felt sick, and her skin was clammy and cold and her mind was addled, as if she had a bad head cold. Got…to…go…she thought to herself muzzily.

"Take them away," she stuttered eventually, exhausted at the effort she had put into restraining her speech.

"_WHAT?_" screamed Sirius. He caught her by the waist as she tried to push past him, and they ended up on the floor. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a huff as Sirius landed on top of her, winding her. There was a crash as the table went over, sending the china and half-drunk tea all over the kitchen. She struggled to stop him, but he sat astride her, pinning her down and held both of her hands away, clamped down by one of his own. He held his wand to her chest. She could feel his breath on her neck, tinged with whisky.

"You're not leaving until I say. How are you going to do this? By what method are you going to take away his powers? " He shuffled round trying to hold her down as she struggled. "Don't…try me", he said, threateningly.

"I…don't…please …" she tried, but he'd put down his wand and was holding her down by the arms.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you go near him? I should never have let you leave today with the others, he's had enough to cope with to last him a lifetime. What would you know about sacrifice? I've had just about enough of it," he shouted at her, shaking her arms.

"The sooner I get rid of you, you stupid idiotic muggle, the better it will be for everyone. Keep still! I'm going to put an end to this now!" he hissed in a voice tinged with triumph and, picking up his wand he held it flat again against her chest.

"Snivellus will not be able to do this work alone.", he continued, addressing an otherwise empty kitchen. "I'll have kept him safe for James and Lily. Like I promised." Cecilia tried again to struggle, groaning at the effort.

Just then, the kitchen door opened. "Cecilia. I got your message, " she heard, then she saw Snape withdrew his wand from his robe. Behind him stood Remus, rooted to the spot.

Then she felt Sirius's weight lift off her, as Snape threw him across the kitchen. A stream of yellow light bounced off one of the walls and narrowly missed them all. Snape and Sirius stood before one another, wands raised.

"I'll kill her," screamed Sirius, pointing his wand towards Cecilia, who was now flicking in and out of conscious, slumped on the tiled floor.

"Black!" growled Snape. "Lupin! I thought you said you were going to keep this mad dog under control." He glanced over to the kitchen door, but Remus had moved and was kneeling beside Cecilia.

"If I kill her, you'll kill me", said Sirius in a low tone. "Which, granted, is a fair exchange. She told me what you were up to, Snivellus, and when she's dead you won't be able to harm Harry."

"No." It wasn't Snape who spoke, it was Remus. "Sirius. You know as well as anyone what we are up against." He turned to look at Cecilia, his eyes roamed her body for injuries, watching as her breathing grew ragged and irregular. She was unconscious, her face sickeningly pale. He held her close in his arms, supporting her and trying to make it easier for her to breathe. Then, Molly entered the kitchen.

"What's…" she began, surveying the kitchen in horror – the overturned table; the broken china. Then her eyes followed the line of Sirius's wand to Cecilia. She broke her gaze and glanced round, quickly.

"What's going on here?" she looked between Snape, who still had his wand pointed at Sirius. "Remus, what's happened? Oh my dear gods, what's happened to her? Arthur!" she turned her head and shouted for her husband through the open door.

"Black attacked her", said Snape, staring with loathing at his adversary. "He was going to kill her."

Mrs Weasley's stunned face met Remus's eyes, and he nodded in confirmation. She gasped. Just then, Mr Weasley entered the kitchen. He surveyed the scene. He held up a small vial with a few drops of clear liquid inside.

"The twins said they gave it to Sirius", said Mr Weasley carefully. "They were going to play a joke on Cecilia, ask her embarrassing questions, but they said that Sirius suggested he would ask the questions, and they could listen. With these", he added meaningfully holding up a pair of Extendable Ears. "I just caught them red-handed on the stairs." The expression on Mrs Weasley's face turned from concern and agitation to white-hot fury.

"Veritaserum!" shouted Snape. "Don't you know it can have toxic effects in muggles?" He shouted accusingly at Sirius, who had lowered his wand slightly. "Or was that the point?"

Sirius smirked at his remark. Snape dived towards him, holding him against the kitchen wall. Sirius's wand went flying onto the floor.

"Is this how _you_ attacked her?" he turned his gaze on Snape. "Did you enjoy it? She is weak anyway, and we know that's how you like them, Snivellus. I expect another week in your hands, and I needn't have worried about killing her myself. You would have done the job for me. Or were you saving her as a prize? Oh yes!" he spat, triumphantly, as if he's just worked out the game. Snape pushed him harder against the wall and tightening his grip, forcing himself not to look round at the eyes which were no doubt upon him.

"We need to get her medical help," said Mrs Weasley frantically. "Will wizard healers be able to help?"

"I'll go and get Poppy," said Mr Weasley, "then I'll owl Dumbledore" he added, and disapparated.

"Remus," she said, Can you get her upstairs?" She tried to make her way across to Cecilia. She didn't need to. Strong hands had already, firmly but gently, picked up Cecilia's limp body. With a glance mixed with sadness and anger towards his friend, still pinned to the wall by Snape, Remus strode out. Snape turned to see Sirius's exultant expression.

"If she dies", he growled, his voice cracking slightly. "I shall not be responsible for my actions."

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	10. Connections

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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The summer's day heat radiated around her. Cecilia looked towards the face of the sun and smiled. Her journey was taking her down a long country lane, towards home. She felt happy; she would see her family again, and she defied anyone not to be happy with weather such as this. Just a bit further down the road before her lay a green field, with cows lazily grazing. Her house lay across the field, so she looked for the stile she knew was round the corner.

As she looked, some gulls circled overhead, and she could hear their wings beating as they flew. No stile, she realised, and proceeded further down the lane, looking for another means of access. As she walked, a sudden chill bit the air. The hedge seemed to grow taller around her, and cirrocumulus clouds flicked across the sun.

How can I get in, she thought, and a faint hint of unease struck her. The mocking cry of the gulls seemed echo all around as she hurried back up the country lane and, as she surveyed the field she had seen before, her heart sank as its area increased beyond sight before her eyes….

…Phineas Nigellus woke with a start. He shuffled round in his frame, slightly annoyed at being awoken from a very pleasant sleep. The voices of the current occupants of his house came through the open study door, and he moved round to a better eavesdropping position.

"Four days," he heard a woman say, and recognised it as the witch who came to reallocate the dust every so often in the study where he hung. "Do you think Dumbledore should tell her family?"

"Has he said anything you?" said a man.

"Dumbledore?"

"Sirius…"

What was that? Young Sirius, eh? thought Phineas, as he leaned against the frame edge. He remembered when his great-grandson was small, sitting in his father's chair and asking him questions, about his family and the wizards therein, and sometimes about grass and trees and birds. Then he had grown, and turned his back on his heritage. Young men today…

"Remus has been with her since Saturday, I think he feels some responsibility. Sirius told him he was sorry, Molly, you know he's been climbing the walls now the ministry has been closing in on him…"

"Sirius is the closest Harry has to a father…"

"How is he coping with it?"

"Harry's upset; all the children are: they saw Remus carry Cecilia upstairs…"

Ah, he recognised that voice; his great granddaughter. Didn't her mother marry a muggle? At least she had the good sense to give her a good, solid traditional name…

"Dumbledore spoke to him…"

"Harry hasn't spoken to anyone about it…it's probably best to leave him be for the meantime…"

"No-one's seen Snape since last Saturday, really thought he was going to have Sirius's head off…"

"I am so glad Dumbledore arrived when he did, Tonks. I couldn't honestly be sure that Severus wouldn't have killed him there and then…"

"Should someone tell him?..."

"No…there's nothing to tell, if you think about it…"

"Poppy says if she doesn't come out of it today, it won't look good; her heart will get weaker and she'll slowly die…"

…now she's running…along a beach, through the sand…the atmosphere is calm, the waves are lively lapping at the shore…it is most idyllic and peaceful. The sand is soft underfoot but Cecilia barely notices, as she hurries across it. She can't find them; where are they? Are they still here? The waves roll up the shore, and Cecilia searches the horizon. And then she sees them; Mum and Amy are waiting for her …there on the other shore...Freya is waving…and Libby too. And they're calling her…Cecilia…

"Cecilia…"

The room slowly came into focus and Cecilia blinked as the bright light stings her eyes. She looked around her, raising her hand up to her face. That was some night, she thought, and coughed in response to the slowly tightening feeling in her chest. Someone is holding her hand she realised, and his expression changed from worry to a friendly smile.

"Glad to see you are with us again," said a man holding her hand, smiling down at her gently. She blinked again, and the room came back into focus. This wasn't her room, not her bed. Where was she?

She looked round the room; slow realisation dawning that she wasn't at home with a hangover from drinking all night with Libby she was…where? She raised her other hand to her head. She had a splitting headache.

"Wha…why…..?" she began, before being shushed.

"There, now," he said, smiling kindly. "You've been out of it for almost four days; we were beginning to worry about you."

Four days? thought Cecilia. She tried to raise herself up in the bed, but pain in her back shot through her. She grimaced, and looked round the room, trying to work out where she was, and then looked back to the man.

"You're safe, " he continued. His voice sounded familiar, and she looked at him, questioningly.

"Remus", he said gently. "You drank something that disagreed with you…at work", he added. "Why don't you tell me what you remember? That might help. Your age, for instance? Where you live?"

"Twenty eight…" She tried again to hoist herself up onto the pillows but slumped back as white-hot pain seared momentarily down her left-hand side. She winced, and breathed out heavily, coughing slightly. "This isn't where I live though…" she added. Remus, she thought. Why do I know that name?

"Lie still," said Remus, stroking her hand. Cecilia looked down at her hand, and then followed the hand up until she was looking at his face which was full of concern; his pale eyes betraying tiredness and worry. She held his gaze for a few seconds before she winced again as the pain dug in sharply near her ribs. Cecilia closed her eyes; she felt tired, and her headache seemed to be getting worse and she felt him stroke his finger lightly across the back of her hand.

When she was asleep Remus slowly slipped his hand from hers and paused to glance at her asleep for a moment, before striding quickly out of the room and downstairs…

…Phineas strained at the confines of his frame so as to pick up the fading conversation. He cursed his own mortality for not being able to move so as to better hear what was being said.

"Heaven knows how he must be feeling; you know how much he looks up to Sirius…"

"Do you think he will still go through with it?"

"It's for the Order…against You-Know-Who…"

"But if she never wakes up, if she…dies…what will happen then?"

"Dumbledore will talk to him again, no doubt…"

What were they talking about, thought Phineas, moodily. They'd mentioned You-Know-Who and Phineas recalled that he was broadly in favour of those ideas of his. And did one of them say there was a muggle upstairs? It certainly would not have happened if he'd been alive, he thought, shaking his head.

"Remus, what is it?"

"She's come to…Cecilia…quick, get Dumbledore…

"Quickly, Bill…"

"Poppy…yes, she woke up…"

"Oh my! Tonks…Cecilia…"

"Come on, I might need your help. Her problems might just be beginning…"

The living…huh! What do they know about problems? They don't know they're born, half the time, he thought bitterly. It's when you're dead, that's when the trouble begins, what with the loneliness…dust…flaky paint…

…This time her dream was different. She was searching for something; the moor she was standing in was growing darker, and she was aware of the shape behind her, following her. She continued to walk across the moor, looking for something…someone…but couldn't quite remember what for…or who… She had a nagging thought in the back of her mind telling her she knew she shouldn't have been there, and her mind chided her for ignoring the warnings…

…The thing behind her was getting closer; the padding behind her making her heart race slightly, and she looked round for a weapon. The dusk settling in round her as she went made the moor appear inhospitable; one or two lights many miles ahead kept her focus. Her mind began to race; it wasn't a matter of if the beast behind her would attack, but when and, no sooner had she thought this, its pace increased, jumping to one side of her. Cecilia turned to run, but was prevented from making much headway by two extruding basalt outcrops and the animal, something of a huge black canine bared its fangs and backed her into it. Her mind was blank with fear, she knew she couldn't run and there was no-one about. The animal backed her further towards the rock face, saliva dripping from its protruding teeth and a wave of terror washed over her…that was it, the end…she was done for. But then, someone jumped in front of her, holding out their hands to ward it off…she knew this person…she could almost feel who it was…

A pain in her side caused Cecilia to wake with a start and she blinked muzzily, realising it had only been a dream. Then she noticed…there were people round her, looking at her intently. She recognised one of the people, the man with the beard and the robes, what was his name? And the woman. Kindly, homely face; worry etched with a nervous smile. Remus, the man who had held her hand just then was also there, and another woman, dressed like a nurse. She looked from face to face, trying to piece things together in her mind.

"Cecilia," said Dumbledore, as her gaze eventually returned to him…Dumbledore…yes…that was right. She tried to get her mind to focus on something she knew about him as he continued.

"We were all quite worried," he continued approaching the bed. Cecilia tried to straighten up, but he waved his hand vertically to indicate that she didn't need to. "I can understand your confusion," he continued. "The potion you inadvertently consumed is known to be toxic to muggles. You are very lucky to be here…" he looked round at the other people.

"Would you mind leaving us for a moment? I need to have a word with Mrs Frobisher in private." She watched as Remus and…Mrs Weasley…yes…left, hearing her yelling up the second flight of stairs. The other woman put down the flask she was holding and, smiling at Cecilia, followed her.

Dumbledore pulled across a chair next to the bed. Cecilia tried to move herself further up, and grimaced as the pain coursed through her. Dumbledore smiled sympathetically, and patted her right hand.

"Madam Pomfrey says you will be fine now you're awake Cecilia, however I must warn you, there may be some lasting harm. How do you feel at the moment?"

"Tired," she said, considering her pounding head. "Confused. I don't remember much, Professor…" she sighed, hopelessly. "What happened to me?"

He smiled at her again, acknowledging her request for information.

"Before I answer that Cecilia, I need to ask you, what do you remember? Take your time, but it is vital I know everything…"

What do I remember, she thought to herself. It all seems so confusing…

"I remember you, Professor, and Mrs Weasley…" she stopped, trying to reorder the scenes flashing in and out of her mind. There was a street…selling…broomsticks?

"We went…shopping…Tonks and I, we bought some clothes…Remus…" she stopped and frowned, considering what she remembered about Remus Lupin.

"Take your time," reminded Dumbledore gently.

"The Order meeting, you proposed me as a member…it nearly didn't happen, but someone voted in favour…and then…then I went to bed…" she sighed. That was it. She went to bed. So how was she lying here days later?

"Is that everything, Cecilia? Do you remember nothing else?" At the prompt, her mind clicked over, as if another tea-chest of memories had washed up on her cerebral beach.

"Thinking about it," she said slowly, "I got back up," she looked at Dumbledore, determined to get across the vital information she was even now unpacking.

"I didn't go straight to bed...the man, at the meeting…Sirius…" realisation dawned on her face…"He was downstairs…" she looked at him questioningly. Dumbledore rose, and began to pace.

"I will not deny what happened, Cecilia. On Saturday you were attacked, resulting in you becoming unconscious." He sighed, and looked at Cecilia, conveying the gravity of the situation. Attacked, thought Cecilia, searching her memories. She shook her head slightly.

"Sirius had been drinking, however I must add, I am telling you that not as an excuse or to justify his actions. Indeed, they are far from justifiable. You've been unconscious for four days. He threatened to kill you Cecilia, I am afraid to say."

"Kill me?" said Cecilia, her voice cracking because of her dry mouth. She coughed.

"I don't remember…what do I remember?" She tried to think back to the memory of Sirius. "We drank tea…yes…I was reading…" she broke off and swallowed, "Remus's book..." she added, glancing at Mysterious Mythology on the table beside her.

"He is sorry for it Cecilia, and regrets harming you. As a member of the Order you are afforded the protection and are most welcome to remain here." He stopped pacing and stood by the side of the bed. "You don't have to decide now. Take your time."

She barely recognised Dumbledore's words however, because of the confusion that had overtaken her mind. She coughed, and Dumbledore patted her hand.

"What will happen now?" she asked, frowning.

"You need to regain some strength before we can decide that, don't worry, you are quite safe now. Remus has barely left your side, we were all quite worried."

Remus…the image of his face entered her mind, and she recalled his warm breath on her neck the very first time they met.

"You need some rest, some time to get your strength back", he said, heading towards the door. "Try and sleep, Cecilia, you'll feel much better." And with that, he left.

Sirius, she thought, as she sank back under the covers. He seemed so nice... The world round her grew warm and dark and she drifted back off to sleep.

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It seemed like only a few seconds when Cecilia reawoke, but it was much later in the day. Long shadows cast themselves on the opposite wall and she realised that Remus was by her side again, holding her hand.

"Some water for you" he said, smiling, and gestured towards the others in the room. "You have some visitors, if you're up to it." Cecilia smiled back at Remus and sat up, ignoring the pain as she tried but failed to get to a more comfortable position. Dumbledore was also there, she noticed and Mrs Weasley, with the twins and she noticed a look pass between them.

"The children," began Mrs Weasley awkwardly. "That is, I am afraid to say it was my sons, Fred and George, who gave Sirius the Veritaserum." She looked across at the twins, who solemnly bowed their heads, their flushing red with shame. She looked across at Dumbledore.

"Unfortunately, the twins didn't know how dangerous it is for a muggle to drink it, " he continued. "They want to apologise," he added, smiling.

"The twins did not know…" Cecilia paused and trying to assemble her thoughts of realisation into words, and looked pointedly at Mrs Weasley "…did Sirius know?" As she spoke Cecilia tried to inch her way up the bed again, refusing to yield to the pain. When Molly's gaze lowered, she looked Remus, and read the answer from his expression. Mrs Weasley approached Cecilia.

"My dear, I am truly sorry, Fred and George –" her voice hardened, "are very sorry for their actions…" One of the twins opened his mouth as if to say something to his mother, but Mrs Weasley gave him a look and he thought better of it. She gestured towards Cecilia.

"We are sorry, Mrs Frobisher," said Fred, looking at his brother. "We really didn't know it would harm you…" finished George. "You see, Fred and I thought it would be funny to…well, you know…"

"Find something out that was…you know…embarrassing…" said Fred, looking over at George. "We told Sirius, and he talked us into giving it to him and we could listen…" he paused, realising that it wasn't the cleverest thing to have said in front of his mother and headmaster.

"It was Sirius…" clarified George, "He – "

"How dare you!" bellowed Mrs Weasley. "You were going to try it anyway, for a fun…just look at the consequences of your tomfoolery and mischief, and I am sure Mrs Frobisher is not laughing" she waved her hand towards Cecilia, and the twins hung their heads in disgrace. "I am ashamed to call you my children" she added, folding her arms. Silence reigned for a few minutes, and Cecilia spoke.

"Thank you for your apology, I value it" she said, nodding at Mrs Weasley, who looked briefly between Cecilia and Dumbledore before ushering the twins outside. Dumbledore followed them and moments later they heard Mrs Weasley begin round 2.

"It's all so hard to take in," she sighed, turning to Remus after they left. "I just don't remember…" They sat quietly for a few minutes, and she spoke again.

"I remember…working downstairs'…with your book..." she looked at "Mysterious Mythology" and glanced at his face momentarily before continuing.

"He was asking me about…my life before I came here…" she paused and looked at him again. He rose.

"I am pleased to see you well again, Cecilia. Madam Pomfrey will be along shortly to give you some more medicine, so I will leave you to your rest." He smiled at Cecilia again and she noticed a faint tinge of uncertainty flicker across his face before striding towards the door. He paused to look back and saw her head bowed. She was crying.

Closing the door he had just opened, Remus sat back down on the edge of the bed and held her hands.

"Thank you, for looking after me, Remus. If it hadn't been for you," she said, her tear-filled eyes looking into his,"Sirius would have killed me, wouldn't he?" When he didn't reply, Cecilia looked at him. "Please, be honest with me, Remus."

"I am not sure, Cecilia," he said, noticing the sight look of disbelief she gave him. "He was in a state, he'd drunk too much, he thought you were a threat to Harry." He sighed, fighting an inner battle between truth and loyalty.

"However, I did not stop Sirius. It was Snape…" He bowed his head slightly, not wanting to look at her.

Snape…an image of him filled her minds' eye…he'd stopped her being killed…

"Please, Remus…will you tell me everything? I want to know…" She looked at him earnestly, and, burying his feelings deep down inside, he nodded…

"…Why?" whispered Cecilia, a quarter of an hour later. She coughed before continuing. "It can't just be about Harry. He could have just voted against me at the Order meeting… or just said I couldn't come to the house…"

Remus shook his head sadly. "I am afraid I don't have all the answers. You must understand...everything Sirius has been through since we left school; he lost his best friends; he went to prison for their murders… he is very protective of Harry" added Remus carefully.

"I thought he understood the consequences," he continued. "I ashamed to call him my friend,"

Cecilia smiled wanly. She couldn't understand it; she couldn't begin to. She was lying here; she'd nearly died…but where the motive came from…that rang true…what if she had thought Freya was in danger? Wouldn't she do everything in her power to protect her?

"Not after the last time," continued Remus. "Even when he said it…I never thought he'd actually go through with it…" But Cecilia wasn't listening now…

"Severus," she said wearily, continuing to look at him. "Where is he? Can I see him?" Remus's expression changed from uncomfortable admission to perplexity. He opened his mouth to reply but just then a knock came at the door.

"Remus," said Tonks, her silver hair shimmering from the light in the hall as she opened the door. "Cecilia! Wotcher! Heard you were awake." She looked between Remus and Cecilia. Remus let go of her hand and stood up.

"I'll leave you to get some rest," he said. "I expect Professor Dumbledore will want to speak to you." He made to go, and Tonks grinned, watching him approach her. She winked at Cecilia.

"See you later," she said, and Remus closed the door.

Tonks was waiting for Remus outside. "How is she?" she asked, as they walked towards the stairs.

"Fine, in herself." said Remus, wishing Tonks hadn't have turned up at that particular moment. "She's having trouble taking it all in; I'd rather not leave her…"

"You've waited with her for the last four days Remus, you deserve a break." Changing the subject, she continued, "Sirius hasn't been down from the third floor study since Dumbledore spoke to him." She began to walk towards the stairs. "He wants to see her…"

"I don't want him near her anywhere near her!" Remus snapped and Tonks turned, astonished.

"You're so kind to do this, it's tired you out," she said, "Come on, lets have supper" she added, continuing down the stairs.

With a quick glance to the Cecilia's door, Remus followed her.

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Cecilia stared at the closed door for a while, thinking. Her head ached as she tried to think. She had been unconscious for four days, put there by a man who she was told was on their side. What was it she was doing here? Was it really worth all this?

I'll get up, she thought, when I'm able…walk out of here…go home…and back into the world.

I could do that…approach the next stranger in the street and tell them what I've been doing for the last three weeks. Laugh out loud when I do, knowing I'll never have to think about wizards or magic again…

She lay back, running the thought over and over in her mind. Home. Only…

Unbidden, she thought back to the words she had spoken in the meeting last Saturday.

She'd stood up and spoken them…to twenty-odd strangers. Why had she done that? Following where her thoughts were leading her, she ran over the possibilities in her mind…and came to the conclusion that…it wasn't just to prove a point.

She spoke to them, because she actually believed in something she was doing. It was a long time since she had felt like that before. Tim…she knew she was doing the right thing marrying him. And becoming a teacher…that had been the right thing too…

The advert she had read two months ago popped in to her head …"Help save the world!" it had said Then her mind drifted to the picture she'd seen…last week…she was with Tonks…

She replayed what she had done, in her minds' eye. She had found the image…the expression on the man's face…the horror as green sparks shot out from the end of the wand…the triumphant laughter as he fell back, off the balcony…they had killed his daughter too. Eight years old…same age as Freya…

No, thought Cecilia, she couldn't leave now. How could she, knowing that she could stop that happening to others? What sort of person would that make her?

If she left, she would be as bad as the monsters that had done that to a child. Worse, in fact. Whatever wrong Sirius Black had done to her, the passive inaction which would come from her choosing the easy option would be in fact worse. If she walked away she would know that she could have at least done something that could prevent another child's fate being the same. And that was worth it.

Ignoring the pain down her side, Cecilia struggled out of bed and switched on the light, picking up Mysterious Mythology from the table beside her and dropping it heavily onto her lap. She turned to page one, determined to make a start, taking in again the words forming the border round the title page...energy, magic, light. So he wants me to stop, does he? She thought, as a twinge of pain flicked down her side. It'll take more than that…

She managed the first sixteen pages, re-reading the stories that had delighted wizard children for centuries, no doubt, until exhaustion overcame her. She closed her eyes.

No, she concluded; as she drifted off to sleep. I cannot leave. I cannot stay here, but I must continue the work, whatever it takes…when Severus comes back, we can begin again… The words replayed themselves in her mind until she was asleep.

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The first thing Cecilia did when she got up painfully the next morning was have a bath, and on returning from her perfect way to wake up despite her feeling sick as she made her way gingerly there, was amazed to find clean bedclothes in place of the tangled covers she had thrown off.

She slipped gratefully between the cool sheets and moments later, there was a knock on the door. In came Tonks, shortly followed by Harry, Ron and Hermione. She smiled brightly at them.

"Morning, " said Tonks, beaming. Ron and Hermione were also smiling however Harry looked rather tense.

"Good to see you all," said Cecilia. "How are you?"

"Good," said Hermione. "How are you, Mrs Frobisher?"

"Much better," she said, trying not to let what wasn't show on her face.

"Hermione has something for you," said Tonks, as they all pulled up chairs near the bed.

"Oh?" said Cecilia, hoping it wasn't a get-well-soon card.

"It's a get well soon card," said Ron, smiling nervous. "A bit silly really, but we thought it might cheer you up." He handed it to Cecilia. The cover was decorated with what seemed to be a cauldron, but with tubes and stars all over it and inside, all the children, even Fred and George had written their names.

"We did it without magic," said Ron hastily. "We thought you'd like it. Harry suggested we get the cauldron to move, and change the potions…" he looked nervously across to Harry, "but we…changed our minds…"

"Thank you," she said, looking round. "It's a really kind thought."

"I've got something for you too, Mrs Frobisher," said Hermione, unfurling the roll of parchment she had in her hand.

"I mentioned to the children that for your research you needed to know about wizard families…" began Tonks.

"Yes," interrupted Hermione. "You needed to know about wizards who had muggle or muggle-born parents. So I wrote to mum…she did our family history a few years ago…and I write down what I know about each member…" Cecilia looked as Hermione pointed to a family tree and the very detailed exposé next to each name.

"It might not be what you need," she continued, "but I thought it would help. For instance, my great grandfather on my mothers' side," she pointed to an entry about a third of the way from the top, "Oswald Ashcroft, he ran away to join a circus when he was thirteen. We have a newspaper report saying he never got injured or ill while he was at the circus, and his conjuring tricks were said to be uncrackable..." She handed the parchment to Cecilia. "It might not be what you need…" she repeated, but Cecilia nodded.

"Thank you, Hermione. You've put a lot of effort in, I see. I am certain it will be valuable." She smiled at Hermione, and Ron smiled too. Harry however, looked as if he wanted to say something.

"Harry?" prompted Cecilia. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shook his head. Cecilia smiled at him, but winced a bit; her headache had returned.

"That's enough excitement for now, kids," said Tonks, noticing Cecilia's tired expression.

"You can come back later on, if you wish," said Cecilia, as they rose and headed towards the door. She smiled gratefully at Tonks, who sat down next to her. Just then, Harry turned back.

"Mrs Frobisher," he said. Cecilia looked up at him.

"Mrs Frobisher, are you…OK? I mean really OK? It's just that…" he stopped and looked around.

"Harry," sighed Cecilia. "I feel much better than I did yesterday," she said. Just please don't let him mention Sirius.

"…only…Dumbledore said hadn't made p your mind if you were going to continue with the research…and, well…Sirius…" he said, then stopped quickly when he saw her face.

"When something is decided Harry, Dumbledore will tell you," said Cecilia levelly, trying her best to smile as Harry looked between both Cecilia and Tonks. He nodded, and left. Cecilia looked down and sighed.

"I've got something that will brighten your day a bit," said Tonks, pulling out a catalogue from her back pocket. "Broomstick Monthly. All the latest news from the world of speed-flying to Quidditch." She opened it up and placed it on Cecilia's lap. The page which Tonks had opened showed an image of a wizards dressed in what looked like mackintoshes and goggles zoomed around on a broomstick from one corner to another.

"This is the one to get," said Tonks, flicking over a couple of pages. "Carbon fibre bristle plate and lightweight handle." She gestured to a rather sleek-looking model. "Plus", she continued, "you get the optional extra glove compartment here on the bristle-moulded model…"

Cecilia nodded. Sometimes, she concluded, letting Tonks get into her stride, anoraks had quite a calming effect.

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While Tonks was busy raving over bristle-per-square inch ratios, another conversation began, awaking both the soul and the interest of Phineas Nigellus.

"She asked for Snape," said Remus, looking down into his teacup.

"She what?" said Bill, looking at his mother.

"She wants to see him…"

"Well we'd better get him," said Mrs Weasley

"But Snape, why on earth…"

"After what Sirius has done, can't you think why she'd rather spend time with him?" said Charlie.

"Where is he, anyway?"

"Order business, for Dumbledore." Mrs Weasley refilled Charlie's teacup.

"Sirius?"

"No, Snape. Sirius is in his father's study. Tonks spoke to him earlier. He is sorry for what he did. He wants to see her."

Ah, thought Phineas. My flesh and blood. Good thing he has made up with his father, at last. Now, at least, there might be a chance of him marrying Gertrude Hilsrom and continuing the pure-blood line…

…"I don't think that's a very good idea Remus, not after all this," said Molly. "Doesn't he know he almost killed her? Her heart actually stopped beating. If it hadn't been for Madam Pomfrey…"

"So you're suggesting we let her see Snape?" said Remus, looking aghast.

"I don't see why not. She said she wanted to, and she is working with him," said Molly. Both Bill and Charlie stared at her.

"But he attacked her, she said so." Remus got to his feet, and walked towards the dresser.

"Sirius said that, actually. But Snape was holding him up against the wall at that stage. Who's to say that he wasn't making it up?" said Mrs Weasley

"He wasn't…"

They all looked round. Snape was standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Its true. I did attack her." he said carefully, scrutinising the faces before him. "But not with intent. Not like Black." He turned quickly to Remus.

"Didn't I tell you Lupin to keep that animal away from her? You knew he was capable of it, he's done it before…"

"You'd know all about that…" said Remus stiffly, eyeing him.

"She wants to see you," said Molly, watching the two wizards carefully.

His face unfroze for a second.

"She's awake?" he said, looking at Mrs Weasley, who nodded.

"She woke up yesterday..."

"And none of you were about to tell me…" Snape broke off, and turned to go, but Remus stepped in front of him.

"Out of my way," he growled, giving Remus a menacing look. Remus said nothing and stared back.

"I need to see her!"

"No," said Remus. Molly glanced over to him. Her look asked, "Why?"

He sighed and stepping aside, allowing Snape to stride out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

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"…excellent! That's settled," said Cecilia, smiling at a grinning Tonks. "Next time, we're going muggle shopping and I won't take no for an answer!"

"What we're going muggle shopping? Shopping for muggles?" She laughed briefly, trying to contain herself. "In that case, I am quite partial to the actor who I once saw in a muggle film…", Tonks paused for a moment trying to think. "It was about a wood in America and it was haunted by a headless horseman…"

Cecilia thought or a moment. "Sleepy Hollow?" she asked. Tonks nodded sheepishly. "I used to nip off to the muggle cinemas on my days off," she added.

"Ok, you can buy Johnny Depp," said Cecilia. "And I'll have Ewan McGregor," said Cecilia laughing, "But just be sure to hide him in at the back of your wardrobe, and if Remus asks, you can just say, 'What? This old thing? No, had him for ages… '" They both laughed.

Their mirth was interrupted just then when the door opened and Snape marched towards Cecilia

"Cecilia." he said, and she noticed the tone of his voice had lost its hard edge. "I would have come sooner, only…" He paused, noticing Tonks.

"Miss Tonks," he said, frostily acknowledging her. "If you don't mind," he continued, looking back to Cecilia, "I need to talk to Mrs Frobisher."

"Go right ahead," said Tonks, remaining where she was.

"Alone," he intoned. Tonks looked between Cecilia and Snape.

"Yes," said Cecilia, nodding.

"Are you sure you'll be all right on your own?" Snape looked irate, but said nothing.

"Fine, Tonks," said Cecilia firmly.

"OK then, if you're sure," said Tonks, getting to her feet. She gave Snape one last look, then stepped towards the door. Once she had gone, Cecilia looked back to Snape. His arms were folded, and was wearing an expression, as he looked her up and down, that she had never seen before. It looked very much like…concern.

"Severus, I..." she began, sitting up. This resulted in her slumping forward, coughing. He approached her, but seemed almost at a loss as to what to do.

"Black…" he said, pacing towards the fireplace. "Look what he's done to you!" he paused, and looked back towards her.

"If I had not become angry with you Cecilia, you would not have returned here," he said, his voice breaking a little. "I am as much to blame…" He left the sentence hanging in the air.

"No," she said. "What happened to me was down to one person alone. How can it be your fault?"

Snape approached the bed, and sat on the edge. He looked slightly pained, as if trying to decide on what to say.

"I know the effects of Veritaserum on muggles, Cecilia. It is a wonder that you survived. Do you remember what happened when you were at Hogwarts?"

Cecilia sighed. He is blaming himself for this because he lost his temper, she thought to herself. She steeled herself to be as pragmatic as she could.

"I do, Severus. But your losing your temper with me has nothing to do with why I am lying here. What I don't understand is why try to kill me? He could easily have stopped me in other ways."

"Black cares about no-one but himself," said Snape, bitterly. "He wanted his fun with you, Cecilia…" he stopped. Cecilia waited for him to continue.

"What?" she said, when he didn't.

Snape sighed. "Black is very much the womaniser, but his feelings towards muggles, well…" he broke off and Cecilia nodded, recalling how he had acted around her on the evening of the meeting. Like an object, not a person.

"Hermione gave me this," she said, sitting up in bed. She pointed to the scroll of paper lying on the floor near the bed. Snape picked it up.

"It's her family tree. I think this will help us when it comes to genetics." Snape stared back at her.

"Well, that's the muggle word for it. It is to do with the parts of you that are passed down in the family, from your parents and grandparents." She noticed Snape stiffen slightly.

"And I looked at Mysterious Mythology again." She added, showing him the notes. He said nothing.

"Severus?" she asked.

"You really wish to continue?" said Snape, looking straight into her eyes. "After what you have been through?" Cecilia looked down.

"I thought about quitting," she said. "The easiest thing in the world would be to go home, forget about…all this." She sighed. "But…the people I'd pass in the street every day, live next door to, talk to in the greengrocers about the price of apples…" she paused. "They could be next. Them, or their families. It brought it home to me Severus, sitting in the meeting with the rest of the Order." Snape looked at her, and nodded slightly.

"When you are ready, when you are well…we should to discuss your idea of jenny-etcks," he said.

No, she thought, I've had enough of being mollycoddled. "How about now?" she asked, and ignoring his expression she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

An hour later and their discussion had reached practicalities. Snape had provided parchment and had made notes on what she said; pausing every so often to make sure she was comfortable. The results had been more than Cecilia could have hoped for, and Snape had been able to grasp the basic understanding of reproduction of cells and DNA. They had spoken about Hermione's family tree, and she expressed her admiration for her because of her astute understanding of inheritance. Then she began to question Snape about wizards.

"It has long been held that what is passed down through families manifests itself within the witch or wizard," said Snape. "However if wizards marry muggles, their children are wizards, but they take on something from the muggle parent." He rose to his feet. "Even if it is undetectable in the wizard themselves, it is there."

Like a stigma, thought Cecilia, grimly. If you have muggles in your heritage, it's like you are not truly a wizard. No wonder there was someone mad enough to come along with ideas like this Dark Lord. And no wonder so many wizards listen. Because it is what they all believe, deep down… As if reading her mind, Snape looked at her.

"The children are wizards, nonetheless," he said, "but to them it feels…like they're neither one nor the other. They cannot fit into either world easily." Cecilia nodded, trying to put him at his ease, wondering vaguely how he knew this. He got up from beside her and walked towards the fireplace, before turning and continuing.

"Even if they live in the wizard world, the muggle part of them always calls them back once in a while, telling them they don't quite belong. That's why Hermione Granger works so hard, in order to prove herself. And you," he said, glancing across to Cecilia. "A muggle in our world…"

"I have to admit, Severus, this is actually me. I was like this before, so being in the wizard world has no bearing on the approach I am taking." She looked down, and tears began to well in her eyes. This was her; bloody hell! Not some zealous reaction to the situation she was in.

Was that the reason then, that Sirius had not stopped at just scaring her off? Because he thought she had a point to prove? She realised she'd said her thoughts aloud, and Severus sat down next to her on the bed. She flinched when he touched her arm.

"Just a bruise," she said, rolling up the sleeve of her nightie to rub it. Severus stared at the yellowing bruise that covered almost half of her upper arm.

"Black!" bellowed Snape, through gritted teeth. He got to his feet and strode purposefully towards the door. "Look what he's done to you. Look what I've done to you myself! You would never have come away from Hogwarts…you were safe there."

"But you lost your temper," said Cecilia. "No, don't go," she said, as he turned the door handle. "It was a reaction to something, nothing more. What he did, it was premeditated."

She looked at Snape, determined to make him realise. "He planned it; he intended to kill me. I know the difference Severus, and I don't care what anyone else says." He paused and turned back to look at Cecilia.

"Do you still want me back? To work that is?" she asked quickly. "Are we making progress? Is what we're doing worthwhile?" Or, she thought to herself, am I just upsetting too many people's lives by being here…those of the Order, the children, you…

"We have a lead," he replied. "A good one. If we can take it further we will have a firm head start." He walked away from the door, and sat on a chair, facing Cecilia. "The Dark Lord is strong now, stronger than he was the last time, and his followers are increasing." He swallowed.

"The chances we have are few, but they are strong, because he does not suspect the means by which we can develop new weapons to use against him. It is worthwhile to all of us, Cecilia." She nodded, and it occurred to her how honest he had been. The only one, bar Dumbledore, to have been honest with her since she arrived.

She was just about to ask how he knew about the Dark Lord when Mrs Weasley came in carrying a tea tray, and she was shortly followed by Dumbledore. Molly laid the tray down on Cecilia's table, and began to pour.

"I thought you might like some of this, being as Poppy said you shouldn't eat anything for another day." she said. "She will be up later, to see how you are," she added, before nodding at Dumbledore.

"Cecilia," said Dumbledore, sitting on a chair next to her. "You look much better than when I saw you last, how are you feeling?"

"Much better, Professor," she replied, and Dumbledore nodded.

"I need to ask you whether you have decided if you wish to continue with your research?"

"Yes, I do want to continue. In actual fact, we have made some progress his afternoon." She looked over at Snape.

"Indeed," he confirmed. "We have made some deep connections upon which we can build." He glanced back over to Cecilia.

"In that case, I need to reassign you Severus. You must progress with the research alone while Cecilia recovers. I know it is much to ask, but it will be in addition to your other work." He turned to Cecilia.

"Poppy says your recovery is remarkable and you will be able to return to Hogwarts within the next few days, should you feel able." He nodded back at Cecilia, but she shook her head.

"No Professor," she said. "I cannot stay here. If you wish me to continue my work with Severus, I must return to Hogwarts now. I feel well enough, but I can't stay here any longer." She looked across at Snape.

"You require the work to be continued as soon as possible," she continued. "And besides, no-one knows the effects of this Veritaserum on muggles…what does it matter if I am here or there?" Dumbledore was about to say something, but Snape spoke first.

"If I may say, Professor, I agree with Cecilia. We need to begin as soon as possible…" he smiled slightly at her before continuing. "Should you require it, I will ensure Poppy visits her daily." Cecilia coughed slightly, and smiled inwardly, realising that more than one connection had been forged that day.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, nodding. "I entrust Cecilia to your care, Severus." He walked towards the door. "Your work is indeed important, to everyone's lives. I am heartened that you have made this decision."

When Dumbledore and Mrs Weasley had left, Snape looked around her room.

"I want you to know I think your decision is brave," he said, turning back. But before she could reply, the door opened.

"Cecilia," said Remus. "You're leaving?…are you OK?"

"Of course she is," Snape spat, staring at Remus. "Why wouldn't she be?"

"Because of the harm you did her last time she went off with you!" retorted Remus. Cecilia looked between them both, and then looked down.

"He didn't mean it, Remus," said Cecilia, and turned to Snape. "I know it. And besides, we need to continue work." Snape exhaled pointedly and looked at Remus.

"So if you don't mind…" he added, victoriously. But Remus remained where he was.

"Sirius would like to see you," he said, looking at Cecilia.

"How dare you…" said Snape. "Does he know what he's done?"

Remus ignored Snape and approached her. He opened his mouth to say something and Cecilia looked at him questioningly when he didn't. She didn't notice him stride back towards the bed and she jumped.

"Why are you leaving with Snape?" he eventually managed, and Cecilia glanced at Snape, whose eyes were bulging in fury.

"Because I need to continue this work," she said, adamantly. "And…I feel safer at Hogwarts than I do here." There, she'd said it. She hadn't wanted to be so blunt with Remus, but his insistence in sticking up for Sirius was the limit.

"Cecilia, please…don't go…" She looked up into Remus's pale eyes, illuminated with surprise.

"Why, Remus?" she said, her voice increasing in volume and resonance. "Don't you realise that my very being here is enough to remind me what your so-called friend did? And by your very admission had Severus not arrived last week I wouldn't even be here to realise that?"

She exhaled, and not even the wounded expression on Remus's face made her regret saying it.

Without saying another word, he glanced between Cecilia and Snape, and went from the room.

"I am afraid if we are to leave today, we must travel by Floo," said Snape. "I can disapparate your belongings again, however. I will return later, when you are ready to leave." Cecilia nodded.

"Thank you," she said, grateful to be left for now, as her ribs began to ache again. He looked across at her and nodded slightly before leaving Cecilia on her own.

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It was the afternoon when she awoke to find Madam Pomfrey in the room, and realised she had dozed off over Mysterious Mythology. Acknowledging her impending departure to Hogwarts, she discussed the side effects of which Cecilia should be aware, but told her that they were not accurate because she knew of no cases where a muggle had ever survived. She explained that Cecilia must not consume any food for at least another day, because he Veritaserum may still be in her system

Soon after, Poppy left and Cecilia eased herself out of bed, changing into something comfortable and packing up the rest of her belongings. Then she noticed Mysterious Mythology. She looked at the front cover again, and flicked open the first page. She knew it was valuable, not intrinsically so, but she really wanted to leave it behind. What use was it anyway, if they had started looking at genetics? And besides, it reminded her so of Remus…who in turn reminded her of Sirius.

Placing the book down on the table, she opened the bag of clothes she had bought from Madam Emaness's shop with Tonks and recalled the fun she had had choosing those lovely things. Folding them up, she looked back at Mysterious Mythology. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought; I still don't know that it is of no use. Just as she was packing it away, there came a knock at the door. It was Remus.

"If you're going to try to talk me out of this," said Cecilia, looking up as he walked in, "it won't work." She zipped her bag closed, and looked defiantly at him.

"It was wrong of me to mention Sirius…" He walked over to her, taking in her hunched stature.

"It is for the best," she said carefully. He looked down, and then straight into her eyes.

"But Snape…" he began.

"I trust him," she replied firmly.

"You trust him? Heaven's above Cecilia, he's about the worst person you could trust…"

"And yet I do. And what's the alternative?" She shook her head. "I'm going today, no matter what, whether it's with Severus, or whether I quit and go back to my world..." she looked down. Why can't you understand, she thought to herself. Why do you insist I stay here?

"Forgive me," he said, walking back to the door. "It is not my place to question you." She sighed again. He took the knob, and going to close it behind him

"Remus…" she said, as he retreated.

"Why?" he said, forcefully, looking up. She paused to catch her breath before continuing.

"Because I couldn't live with the person I'd be if I didn't!"

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Not long after, she was visited by Mrs Weasley, Bill, Charlie and Tonks to see her off. Cecilia was glad when they didn't make a fuss and Tonks said she would call in to see her at Hogwarts. She gave Cecilia a letter which had arrived that afternoon. Her heart soared when she realised it was from Libby, and she had to fight the desire to open it now and scribble a reply.

When the door opened moments later, she was pleased to see it was Snape, and she smiled, knowing it wouldn't be long till she was out of this place.

"Are you ready?" he said, approaching her. She nodded, and there was a crack as he disapparated her luggage. Just then she turned, looking at the door through which she could hear voices.

"…she can't have disapparated, you can't into Hogwarts, can you?" said Hermione, in a knowing voice.

"See, I told you she hadn't gone yet," said Hermione, gesturing towards Cecilia. When neither Ron nor Harry acknowledged her comment she frowned, and Ron screwed up his face in her direction.

"We came to say goodbye," said Harry, and the others nodded.

"Thanks," she said, smiling, and extended it to the others. "Goodbye," she said stepping towards the hearth beside Snape, holding onto his arm, but he pulled her closer and held her waist. She waited for the concertina effect to take hold and she looked momentarily through the green flames.

Within seconds, they were standing in the hearth of her room at Hogwarts. She looked around briefly, then her knees buckled as the nausea swept over her. Without saying anything Snape picked her up and placed her carefully her on the bed before striding out.

"Thank you," she managed, and he flicked a smile towards her before leaving.

She lay on the bed for a few moments, waiting for the dizziness to pass, and her thoughts jumped around, as they sailed through into her mind. It eventually cleared and she yawned; her headache, which she had recently begun to regard as an unwelcome house guest, began to build up in her temples and she sighed, contemplating its annoying presence. Suddenly, across a blank part of her mind, Remus strolled casually, and she thought back to the brief conversation they had last had.

Why on earth did he care so much about her staying there? He's tried twice today to convince her not to return to Hogwarts. It was obvious he was protecting his friend, but surely her departure to Hogwarts wouldn't have made that much of a difference.

He said Sirius was sorry. That was all well and good. And even if she had have seen him, what good would it have done her staying at Grimmauld Place? If Sirius still wanted to stop her, he could have. Why would that require her to stay there? Why did Remus want her to stay? Unless…

His loyalty to Sirius did him credit. Was that the reason he wanted her to stay, though? She considered how he had been with her; he'd been with her constantly when she was unconscious; and the look he had given her when she'd lost her temper with him was heartbreaking. She dismissed the idea, adamant that Remus wouldn't have tried to harm her too.

Closing her eyes, she tried to make herself as comfortable as possible, despite the ache building up down her side again. But a nagging thought refused to leave her. Why was he so insistent on her not returning to Hogwarts? She could feel her mind shutting down progressively, and let the thought go as she passed into sleep…

…the trees within the forest loomed tall around her. Ahead, she could see fields opening and stretching wide into the distance…all she had to do was continue to walk and she would be there in no time. In her mind's eye she could see someone, beckoning her towards the fields…but there is something following her…and she turns slightly…the black dog, fangs bared…but it stops near the trees as she hurries now, as if prevented from leaving the forest…someone takes her hand…she can't see their face…she turns and watches the space widen between her and the dog, her relief increasing proportional to its visible aggravation…

The fire flicked in the grate. If someone had been there in Cecilia's room they would have seen a head appearing in the emerald green flames. It surveyed the room carefully, its gaze coming to rest on Cecilia. After watching her as she move and turn gently in her sleep for a few moments, Sirius stepped back out of the study hearth.

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	11. Research Unravelled

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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"Ah, Harry, good morning, yes, do come in," said Dumbledore. He smiled as Harry entered his portable study, which he had sited just underneath the stairs in Grimmauld Place.

"What was it you wanted to see me about?" asked Harry, looking uncertain.

"Please sit down," continued Dumbledore, and gestured towards some pumpkin juice on the table. Harry shook his head.

"It's about Mrs Frobisher, isn't it?" he said, when Dumbledore hadn't answered his question.

"What do you think of her, Harry?" Dumbledore began to pace before the fireplace.

"That wasn't what I expected you to ask me, Professor," admitted Harry. "I'm not sure what you're asking me, sir…"

"Your opinion of her, Harry. For example, do you like her?" Harry looked back at Dumbledore, who continued to pace, ducking sideways momentarily as the books on the shelves by the fireplace pulled themselves out and restacked around him.

"Er, well…she's…OK…I think…" he relied uncertainly, wishing that he'd asked what Ron thought of her, and Dumbledore looked at him.

"Why do you think I asked you this question, Harry?"

"I dunno…not sure, really," he replied, then thought. Why _has_ he asked me?

"Is it because she's a muggle, Professor?" he asked

"In part, yes," said Dumbledore. "You were brought up in a muggle household, with your aunt and uncle," he said, and Harry rolled his eyes. Don't remind me, he thought.

"So you are aware of what muggles can and cannot do in terms of their ability," said Dumbledore.

"I suppose so," said Harry, well and truly lost now.

"Would you agree with me if I were to say then, that some muggles are intelligent, and have abilities and talents far and a way in advance of other muggles?"

"Yes, I suppose so. I mean, its like comparing..." he paused, trying to work out if he dare make the comparison, but decided to go for it anyway, "Gregory Goyle to...er...you…" he said, ignoring Dumbledore's raised eyebrow. "Or if you're talking about muggles, my cousin Dudley to…" he paused, "someone like Stephen Hawking…" Dumbledore looked at him, questioningly.

"Steven Hawking is a very intelligent muggle," explained Harry, and Dumbledore stopped pacing to look at him.

"You see my point, Harry. Which is why we chose Mrs Frobisher, out of a multitude of different muggles, to work with Professor Snape." He paused, allowing the message implicit in the statement sink in.

"Last Saturday, if you are not already aware of this information from other means Harry, she became the first muggle member of the Order of the Phoenix. The reason I believed she should join was, first and foremost, to become accustomed to our ways, as she will, for several months hence, be working with Professor Snape." Dumbledore began to pace again, and Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Is this about Sirius?" asked Harry. "I saw her when she was unconscious…and, er...I heard Mrs Weasley say it was only because of luck she didn't die…" Dumbledore nodded.

"Whatever Sirius may have said to you Harry, she is not a threat or danger to you. Indeed, it was quite wrong of him to treat her so appallingly. You see we need Mrs Frobisher, we need her to investigate muggle science, with the purpose of discovering why Lord Voldermort was not able to kill you when you were a baby. With this information, we then intend to develop a means to defeat him."

"Why are you telling me all this, Professor?" asked Harry suddenly, wondering why Sirius had been so guarded when they had spoken. "What has this got to do with me?"

"The hope is that Professor Snape will be able to use the information Mrs Frobisher provides to create a weapon to defeat Voldermort. In order to do that Mrs Frobisher needs your input when you return to school. I know that this is your Owl year, but we will never have a chance like this again to defeat him."

"But Sirius…" insisted Harry, "He says she's…well…" he didn't really want to say to Dumbledore what Sirius actually had said about her, but Dumbledore appeared, with his usual incredible perception, to grasp what Harry was trying not to say...

"I have spoken to Sirius," said Dumbledore slowly. "He realises his actions were wrong and is ashamed. We are very fortunate to still have Mrs Frobisher after all of this." Harry nodded slowly.

"Therefore, I ask three things of you. Firstly, during the course of her work I wish you to co-operate with her. Should there be any reason that you cannot or wish not to, please tell her your reasons why. Secondly, she may ask you to give information about your mother and father. She is aware of the circumstances by which your parents met their deaths, which brings me onto my third point." He stopped pacing, and looked directly at Harry.

"Thirdly, and this is most important Harry, she is a muggle. The science she practices is the very reason she is with us. She may however find things difficult, especially being in a world so different to her own and she may at times appear naïve to our ways. She is, after all a muggle adult, and it is a real challenge for any of us to change." He paused, allowing the information to sink in before continuing.

"I am sure you remember what it was like in your first year, when you found out you were a wizard and therefore I expect a measure of understanding and empathy for Mrs Frobisher will follow."

Harry nodded again, taking it all in.

"Are there any questions?" Harry shook his head.

"Very well," replied Dumbledore, "That is all."

Just as Harry got to the door, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Oh, just one more thing before you go. We do not know yet where the research will lead; therefore whatever you discuss with her will remain confidential between you, for the sake of security. Considering the circumstances of last Saturday Harry, it would be only fitting that you show Cecilia the same courtesy."

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After a fitful night, Cecilia awoke, and wondered if she had overslept. I'd better hurry, she thought, or else I won't be able to get anything substantial done today, and hastily pushed the bedclothes off her.

It was only after she swung her legs out of bed, cursing aloud as she did so in response to the searing pain that the events of the last week occurred to her, and she flopped back down on the bed.

She swore under her breath as she steadied herself, and random snippets of the last few days flitted past her head. What am I doing here, she thought to herself, looking round the room. Is it really worth all this? Isn't it strange, said another voice in her head, that you're so familiar with this place, though? It doesn't seem like a moment's passed since you was here…

Mulling this thought over, Cecilia got up steadily this time, scrutinising her appearance. Urgh, you look disgusting! she concluded. She was still in the clothes she had Floo'd in the afternoon before, she considered what had gone on, and considered how strange it was that, after she had been so excited about seeing Tonks a week ago, she had never been gladder to get away from Grimmauld Place and back here.

Cecilia looked round the room again and thought about what had happened since she had hurried so quickly to pack and leave. She'd wanted to get away so badly then, to see Tonks and the others. What if she had stayed put? Well she wouldn't have been in this state, for a start.

Her gaze caught a pile of washing stacked high on her chair in the corner, and she remembered how she'd been unable to leave anything around for more than two seconds before Dobby had whisked it all off to be washed. That was until he'd discovered what happens when you try to wash potassium...

Oh Dobby, she thought, thank you, as she took a towel off the pile and headed towards the bathroom, considering how odd her life had become that the elf had had an impact on her life. What struck Cecilia as most bizarre however, was feeling happy to be back. In a magic school, of all places.

As she ran the tap in the sink, she noticed something scribbled on what she recognised as a page from the back of lab notebook, propped by the taps. She stared at it for a few minutes before she realised that it was a message.

"To Lady," she read, squinting to read the small, spidery writing. "To make the bath Lady".

Cecilia frowned. It was clearly from Dobby; he was the only...person...who called her "Lady". But what did he mean? She turned round, scanning the room. She hadn't noticed that the huge bath was full with hot foamy water. Thank you, Dobby, she thought gratefully, and carefully took off her clothes, discarding them quickly.

"Look at the state of you!" exclaimed her reflection, making Cecilia jump and almost fall in as she neared it. She turned and gasped when did see the state of herself. Although she'd had a bath at Grimmauld Place, she hadn't lingered long, but it wasn't surprising that she felt so bad: in addition to the huge bruise covering her left arm, it extended all the way down her left-hand side to her hip and down her outer thigh; the purple hue fading now to a gaunt yellow. She had a cut on her right shoulder too and when she relaxed her tricep, pain coursed through it.

A rush of self-pity overcome her briefly and, shaking slightly she got into the bath. The heat of the water and the humidity began to work immediately on Cecilia's tense muscles, melting her emotions too. But she still could not think rationally about Sirius Black, or her stay to his home...nor Remus, come to that. But at least Sirius had the decency to express his feelings, she thought, massaging her neck.

Hang on a minute, another part of her mind thought, breaking in on the main event. Are you seriously trying to tell yourself that what he did was justifiable?

No, rebuked the first part. I don't even know if I'm still a member of the Order of the Phoenix. You are, said a third part. Dumbledore said so.

Hold on, hold on, thought Cecilia, trying to put in order the bits of her mind feeding her information all at once. So, if I'm still a member, I suppose I'm expected to go to meetings. Well I'm not ready to go back there, not yet anyway. I'm such an idiot, sometimes. If only I hadn't been beguiled by his charming manner. Exhaling, she pulled her knees up to her chest slightly and massaged her legs, easing the tension in her calves.

But what about Remus? she thought suddenly. Why had he been so insistent in her staying at Grimmauld Place?

While Cecilia had been off analysing her feelings about Sirius Black, she hadn't noticed that Remus Lupin had metaphorically strolled in through the back door of her cerebellum, sat down in the comfiest armchair and put his feet up...

Remus...why wouldn't her mind settle about him? Leaning over for the shampoo, Cecilia tried to think why she couldn't let go of this man. Was she angry with him because he wanted her to stay? Yes, she decided, in part, and massaged the blob of shampoo she had squeezed onto her palm into her hair. Could he not understand she didn't want to be within a hundred miles of Grimmauld Place at the moment?

Yes she thought, ignoring the inappropriate feeling that was even now trying to make its voices heard over the cacophony of her consciousness. He'd wanted her to stay at Grimmauld Place...but...Cecilia worked the shampoo slowly into her hair as she thought...

...the way he held her hand when she was there...so gently, so tenderly...the way he looked at her...how couldn't he know that she needed to leave and continue her work with Severus?

That was it, wasn't it? Of course he didn't want her to return to Hogwarts! Rinsing her hair under the water until there were no bubbles left, she scolded herself aloud for not being quicker on the ball. Black hated Severus...Remus was sticking up for his friend!

She shampooed once more, and got out of the bath, drying herself carefully as she did so and vowing she would not spend any more time thinking about Remus Lupin. Regardless of the fact that he was even now leaving an indelible imprint.

Twenty minutes later and Cecilia was dressed and looking through her equipment and books, trying to remember where she had actually got with the analyses. She wondered what had been left in the potions dungeon, recalling the state it had been last Friday evening.

Looking round the room, she considered what was here, and tipped the contents of her travel bag onto the bed. She picked up "Magic and Muggles" and put it to one side, and placed on top of it the sheaf of notes she had made about genetics from it. The get well soon card that the children had made her drifted undulatingly onto the floor, and she tucked it into the back of "Magic and Muggles." Then her eye caught "Mysterious Mythology".

I should have just given this back to Remus before I left, she thought, picking it up and putting it on the desk. I doubt it'll be of any use now I've read through it all and made notes...

Turning to the pile of equipment in the corner she sorted through it and, deciding on a few, she packed them into a box. Wondering whether she should leave it and see what was actually still in potions, the door burst open and Dobby hurried in.

"Lady!" he yelled, hopping form one foot to another, and then frowned when he saw her lifting the box. "Lady must not be doing this. Dobby will take it," and he grabbed the box from her.

"Dobby!" said Cecilia smiling, . "Thank you for the bath, it was lovely." Dobby smiled back, and frowned again. Looking from left to right, he whispered,

"Dark wizards hurt Lady," said Dobby frowning again and looking from side to side. "But Lady is all right?"

"Yes, all right," agreed Cecilia, considering that being a dark wizard was probably quite an accurate description of Sirius Black last Saturday.

"And Harry Potter saved you!" said Dobby, exultantly, turning and walking quickly out of the door before Cecilia had time to interject. "Harry Potter freed Dobby, Lady. Harry Potter is a very powerful wizard..." he continued, and as Cecilia hurried to keep up him, was privy to exorbitant greatness of Harry Potter.

88888888

Cecilia surveyed the potions dungeon as Dobby busily unpacked her paraphernalia. Sitting on the edge of one of the student benches, she considered all that had gone on here. Discounting Snape's loss of temper last week, she considered their working relationship passable, all things considered.

"...and Harry Potter, well! He handed the book back to Dobby's former master..." continued Dobby, as he placed some flasks on the bench in front of him. Cecilia looked over at Dobby, who had been recounting for the third time the story of how Dobby had been presented with clothes, and smiled.

"...and do you know what happened then Lady?" Cecilia smiled again and shook her head, so as to humour the elf. "He gave Dobby the book...and inside...was a sock!" Dobby grinned wildly, continuing to place her books on the shelf. Cecilia rose, and smiled down at him.

"Dobby," she said, picking up the potions she had been working on last week. "When I left last week, this place was in an awful state. Did you clean it all up?"

"No Lady," said Dobby, glancing down. "Dobby was going to, and even Winky thought Dobby had tidied the potions dungeon. But after what Lady said... and then…_he_ did it…" he glanced form side to side, a fearful look in his eyes.

"Professor Snape?" finished Cecilia, a touch of incredulity in her voice.

"Yes," said Dobby. "But Dobby wanted to, Lady."

Severus, thought Cecilia, as she scanned the table. He'd grouped the potions she had tested to one side, and tidied the ingredients he knew she'd left out. It looked like he might even have tried finishing the ketolysis reaction she'd been halfway through, judging from the two ruined conical flasks in the corner, which had been stained an ugly mustard yellow colour and she felt her heart soften a little, imagining the foreboding, stone-faced wizard taking the trouble on her account.

"Dobby," said Cecilia carefully, turning to him as he stacked the last of her watch glasses under the bench. "Would you mind if I asked you about your life, when you were with the family you served?"

"No, Dobby would not mind," he said, and looked back at her expectantly. When he hadn't said anything for a few minutes, Cecilia recalled how literally he took things and said,

"When you were serving the family Dobby, what was your life like?"

"Oh Lady, it was dreadedful!" he exclaimed, in a low voice. "Really dreadedful. But Dobby was born at their home, Dobby was, and Dobby's mother was their house elf. So Dobby was their house elf, until Harry Potter freed Dobby..." he exclaimed, and his face brightened again as he mentioned his number one hero.

"Dobby had to do some dreadedful things," he continued, as Cecilia looked at him sympathetically. "The family were...were..." he glanced from side to side again with fear. "…they did things for You-Know-Who...horrible, dreadedful things...they made Dobby do them...they made Dobby...hurt muggles..." he glanced sideways at Cecilia, "...and put the Dark Mark in the sky" he shuddered and Cecilia felt quite sorry for him. Then the words "Dark Mark" triggered off some memories in her mind.

"What is the Dark Mark?" she asked.

"It is the mark of him...You-Know-Who...when he has done something, dreadedful..." he looked back down. "...they were on his side…and once a wizard has the Dark Mark they is on the side of You-Know-Who forever..." his voice trailed off, and he looked down. Cecilia decided not to press him any more, and glanced back at the bench of equipment and ingredients.

"Do you know where Professor Snape is, Dobby?" she asked, feeling a little disheartened that he hadn't so much as left her a note or told he when he'd be available again.

"The wizard of whom you speak," said Dobby nervously, "he is asking Dobby to tell Lady, he will be seeing Lady at the usual time tonight."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"Well, Lady didn't ask!"

Cecilia sighed, feeling somewhat tired now. She surveyed the ingredients again and knew she had to take it easy else she wouldn't last the day. But...if she went back to her room again, she probably wouldn't sleep, and she'd probably end up dwelling on things...on people...on a certain someone...

"Dobby, would you like you help me test some of these today?" she asked, smiling at him again.

"Of course, Lady, if that's what Lady wants." He looked at her uncertainly. "But what about what Lady said before?" he looked earnestly at her again, and Cecilia thought hard about what she might have said to Dobby about her equipment.

"What did I say before?" she asked, at a loss.

"That Lady would break Dobby's fingers if Dobby touched anything on the bench again," he said. An image of when Cecilia had indeed said that formed in her mind and she thought about the three days' work on the algae cultures Dobby had destroyed by "helping cleaning up"!

"On this occasion Dobby," she said, relieving her aching muscles by sitting down heavily on a stool, "I'd definitely like your help."

88888888

Three hours later, and lethargy was beginning to overcome Cecilia. Dobby had worked splendidly on the potions ingredients, following her instructions carefully, sometimes too carefully on some occasions, making sure he did everything that she'd said accurately.

Aside from Dobby's confusion when she'd asked for him to allow the flask to stand, and his determination to explain that he couldn't do this because it hadn't got any legs or feet, they'd actually got through quite a lot, and Cecilia had covered several dozen pages in notes.

They hadn't finished all she had intended however, but Cecilia had twice nearly dozed off where she sat, so she'd left it at that and returned to her room, thankful that Dobby had returned to the kitchens. Regardless of her fondness for him, Cecilia doubted whether she could have endured the "How Harry Potter Freed Dobby" story again.

She climbed the stairs in front of the Great Hall and, turning towards the teacher's corridor was surprised to see someone she recognised: Madam Pomfrey.

"Mrs Frobisher, thank goodness!" declared Madam Pomfrey. "Where _have_ you been? I told Professor Snape that you needed bed rest for at least a day! And there you are, strolling round the castle as if you were as fit as a fiddle!"

"I do feel tired..." conceded Cecilia. "I was just going back to bed actually. I haven't seen Professor Snape all day, so I went down and did some work in the potions dungeon..."

"Well what a blessing I found you," admonished Madam Pomfrey. "If you had collapsed again, I just don't know what I would have said to Professor Dumbledore, I really don't!" She ushered Cecilia along the first floor corridor and into the hospital wing before Cecilia had time to protest.

"There, up there. Sit!" said Madam Pomfrey, pointing towards a bed as she bustled around the room, opening cupboards and pulling things out.

"There's really no need, I feel fine...but tired.." said Cecilia, yawning. "Besides, Madam Pomfrey, I thought no-one knew the effects of this on muggles?"

"They don't," she replied, pulling out a bottle with a peeling label and pouring its meagre contents into a glass. "Drat, nowhere near enough, I'll have to ask Profesor Snape for some more gentian root...no, you're quite right..." She walked back towards Cecilia, scrutinising the contents of another bottle through its neck.

"The effects of Veritaserum has never been seen on a muggle, because no muggle has ever survived, to my knowledge." Madam Pomfrey handed the glass of pale green liquid to Cecilia. She looked down at it, uncertainly.

"However, I have seen the effects of other potions on muggles, ones with fewer injuries than you..." she looked over a Cecilia, pointedly, and gestured her to drink what she had given her.

Cecilia looked back and eyes on Madam Pomfrey, she reluctantly took a sip. It tasted awful. "...and haven't done yourself much good, leaving where you were to come back here, you know, " she continued, scoldingly. "I would advise not eating anything until at least tomorrow, just to be on the safe side."

"What is it?" asked Cecilia, taking her second sip. It was worse than the first and though she'd never tasted cod liver oil, she had a sneaking suspicion the taste would not be dissimilar to this.

"It hasn't got a name, at least, one I could bring myself to tell you," laughed Madam Pomfrey. "It's a restorative," explained Madam Pomfrey, as she began to bustle around again. "If there is any Veritaserum left in your system still, that will stop your body absorbing any more."

"You were so lucky, Mrs Frobisher, that you hadn't eaten much last Saturday, or you would not be sitting there turning your nose up at my grandfather's potion." She sat down on the bed next to Cecilia.

"I'm sorry," Cecilia looked apologetically at her. "It's just...the last time I drank anything magical, well..." Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"It was the same for Pompops..." said Madam Pomfrey, smiling. "My grandfather. He was the healer at Hogwarts, many years ago. The trouble he had to give potions to muggleborn wizards, well! But, what you have there is his own recipe for muggles."

"He was a doctor too?" asked Cecilia, astonished.

"No, not formally, at least. Pompops always had an interest in muggles...an unhealthy one, my grandmother said. In his own small way though, I like to think of him as a pioneer. I used to go with him to muggle hospitals when I was very small, when he was treating them for magic-related injuries. That was until my mother decided it was unsuitable. If there's been anyone like him since, I've never heard of him." She glanced over at Cecilia as she yawned again.

"Lie back and rest here, Mrs Frobisher, the potion will probably make you sleep. But you'll feel better."

"What sort of things did he do?" Cecilia asked, kicking off her shoes and leaning back against the large cushions. "And how is that different to how wizards do it?"

"We cure colds, infections, viruses and the like with a potion, and that is that. Wizards are better, cured, can go about their day-to-day affairs. When muggles go through illnesses, it depends on the muggle themselves. They can sometimes die, for no apparent reason, and from muggle illnesses. Wizards are stronger. Constitutionally." She looked at Cecilia, patting her hand.

"My Pompops, he was a half-blood wizard but went to muggle school until he was ten. He was devastated when his best friend died of…polio?...a muggle illness of which I am sure you're aware. When he came to Hogwarts, he was already particularly gifted at potions and herbology, thanks to my great grandmother.

"When muggles began to become ill and die mysteriously, just as You-Know-Who's reign of terror began, Pompops used to go out to muggle hospitals to treat them. He was considered quite an eccentric."

"What sort of things did he do?" asked Cecilia. "How did he know what to treat them for?" Madam Pomfrey frowned slightly, then realisation dawned.

"Why yes of course. I wondered why you'd be interested, but yes, your work with Professor Snape..." She smiled at Cecilia.

"I couldn't honestly tell you, but he did keep his notes which I still have, somewhere. But now," she added, the tone of authority returning to her softened voice, "take the time to rest."

88888888

When she awoke a few hours later, she realised she was alone in the hospital wing. Thankful that Madam Pomfrey wasn't there to order her back into bed she slipped back on her shoes and made her way back to her room just as the school clock gave five sonorations.

Severus will soon be here, she thought as she walked through high-ceilinged corridor towards the teachers' quarters. I'm so glad I didn't oversleep; I really would have been gutted if I missed out on work after all this.

As she turned the corner to the small corridor towards the bedrooms, she realised that despite her reluctance in drinking Pompops Pomfrey's potion, the dull but persistent ache actually wasn't troubling her.

Perhaps I'll speak to Madam Pomfrey again tomorrow those notes she was talking about, she thought, turning the old-fashioned ringed handle on the thick oak door.

Looking round the room that she'd left this morning, she decided to tidy the mess she had created whilst sorting out her books and equipment. I suppose the up side of magic is that "Mary Poppins" moment of tidying, she thought, making the bed properly and throwing her dirty clothes from that morning into a pile.

As Cecilia threw her jeans across, something fell out of the pocket. The letter from Libby. As the realisation grew, she stopped what she was doing and sat down on the chair before the desk, and pulled it open hurriedly, scanning the neat, handwritten lines.

"…and Freya won a school prize for being able to recite her times tables the fastest…Mrs Louis said that even _she_ didn't know up to her 20 times table..." How like Freya and her competitive streak, thought Cecilia, smiling at the thought of her god-daughter standing up, bold as brass, in front of the rest of the school.

She looked up from the letter, taking in the colouring of what appeared to be a big purple stripy crocky-ducky-fish she knew Libby wouldn't have been able to stop Freya drawing on the back of it, and glanced further down to the last third of the letter, where she knew Libby would have put the thing that she considered most important.

Her chest tightened as she read, "…we are all missing you Cec, please call or write as soon as you can to let us know you are safe and well…"

Safe and well…

She stood up and began to pace, contemplating the events that had almost caused her not to be safe and well aloud. Once she had shared them openly with the four walls of her room, she wrapped them up neatly and placed them in a box at the back of her consciousness, deliberately adding a large metaphorical padlock to it to prevent her coming across them by accident.

Then she grabbed a piece of paper and began to write.

"Libby,

Thank you for your letter which was beautifully decorated by whom I trust is the next up and coming Turner Prize winner. The post here is quick, but my scattyness and usual singlemindedness towards work prevented me from actually finding your letter until this morning. It is proceeding well…"

She paused. Was that entirely true, she thought. Considering the context she was working in, she decided, it was.

"…although my research colleague is nothing like Nick. How is he, by the way? Have you seen him? How are mum and Amy? You ask about my returning for my birthday. I'll have to let you know. But hopefully. I apologise for not having called, the place is not connected, which is why I'm writing (please excuse the legibility). As to my safeness and wellness…"

Libby knows me too well to be fooled by what I write, thought Cecilia. Do I feel safe? At this particular moment in time, sitting here, writing this…yes. I feel perfectly safe.

Am I well? I feel much better than I did this morning. But still tired, and not quite yourself, another part of her mind chipped in. All right then.

"…I'm both safe and well, but tired. However, Mrs Elizabeth Louisa Mitchell, you'll be pleased to know that you were indeed right. I'd much rather be doing this than sitting at home feeling sorry for myself…"

There. She hated lying, or being economical with the truth to her best friend, but she knew what Libby would be like if she didn't hear from her, or worse, if she did and it was vague. And there might be more than a bit of trouble if Libby actually decided to visit the patent office looking for her…

Satisfied, Cecilia folded up the letter wondering where she would find an envelope amongst all her things and, as she turned she noticed an intense green glow in the fireplace.

"Hello?" she said, abandoning the letter on the table and getting up. As she did so, the glow imploded in on itself silently, leaving behind a void.

"Hello!" she shouted into the space where it had been. Just then, the door opened in response to her exclamation, and she looked up from her half-kneeling position before the fireplace.

"Remarkable," said Snape, as he eyed her critically. "I didn't even need to knock." He walked towards her, and proffered a hand to help her up.

"And such a ladylike position," he added, as she accepted his hand gratefully. "Would it be inappropriate to ask why you are down there, Mrs Frobisher, or is it a muggle ritual to which I am otherwise ignorant?" Cecilia smiled, brushing herself off as she got to her feet.

"Actually, I think it's one of your rituals. A wizard ritual I mean. I thought I saw…" she paused, wondering what she had seen, and her voice trailed off, not entirely sure what she had seen.

"I'm glad to see you are feeling better, at any rate. However Madam Pomfrey is most annoyed that you are not still in the hospital wing." He sat down on the bed, eyeing the half tidied room critically.

"Scourgify," he said, pulling out his wand and flicking it in the direction of her books and glassware. "Really," he said, admonishingly. "However, I did see the state in which you left the potions dungeon, so I'm not entirely surprised."

Cecilia sat down on the bed, much happier, if that was the appropriate word to describe her feeling, that Snape had actually turned up so they could do their work. Back to his usual sardonic self. Things were getting back to normal, then.

"Thanks for that," said Cecilia, smiling. "And thanks for looking at the keto reaction downstairs…" Snape looked over at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, if my colleague decides that wizard shopping in Diagonalley, then excusing herself on sick leave for a week is acceptable…" he looked at her, and Cecilia was almost sure he was attempting to express sarcasm, "…someone has to take the responsibility..."

88888888

Half an hour later and they were back to where they were from their conversation yesterday at Grimmauld Place. Cecilia was amazed that he had remembered so much, and had been astonished when he's leafed through her books and papers, and began working on some questions she had copied out from a school textbook. She looked across at him reading through them, and frowning slightly when he was unsure of something and hadn't the heart to tell him they were from a SATs paper for 14 year olds.

"It makes sense," he said eventually, handing it back to her once he had finished. "The cells reproduce by copying themselves."

"It must happen in wizards, too," said Cecilia, looking through the answers. "There has to be enough identical DNA between wizards and muggles to allow reproduction to take place between us…" Snape looked up briefly. "You know what I mean…" she added, and continued.

"Which means there can only be one chromosome different. It has to be in the gametes otherwise we'd be completely different species."

"Chromosomes?" asked Snape, curiously. Cecilia leaned over and looked at the paper answers he had had his quill write next to he questions. She pointed to question eight.

"Here, " she said. "You answered this right. So you know they make up part of the cell." She scanned down to question eleven, which he'd left blank.

"Chromosomes, " she said patiently, "are what you said. They replicate themselves so the cells can reproduce. But the question here…" she pointed to eleven, "…refers to DNA. That is the chemical strand that makes up the chromosomes. In every person, it is different. Which is why everyone is different to look at."

"Twins," said Snape, looking coldly between Cecilia and her finger, still pointing at the unfinished question eleven answer.

"Twins? said Cecilia, shuffling round on the bed to get more conformable. "Yes, identical twins are the exception. They are identical to one another because their chromosomes have the same sequence of chemicals, so it means their appearance is the same. This happens in the gametes, so this is why I say the fact you are a wizard or not, in biological terms, is own to the chromosomes from wither your mother or your father." She sighed, and looked back at Snape, hoping that he would betray at least a flicker of understanding.

"So what you're saying is that inside each cell these chemical strands give us the features and characteristics we have?" Cecilia nodded. At last.

"So how then do you explain how some wizards can change their appearance, if their cells all reproduce the same and the give the same features each time?" He stood up, triumphant and stood, arms folded near the end of the bed. Cecilia sighed again.

"Well, that's the whole point, isn't it, Severus? I don't know why." She stood up quickly and regretted it; Madam Pomfrey's potion appeared to be wearing off.

"No-one has ever thought about in before. No muggle, anyway." She walked over to him. "Look, are there any records of work being done into this for wizards? Anything at all?" She looked pleadingly at him. Snape shook his head.

"Well," she said, walking back towards the desk. "If I had to hazard a guess I would say that for you to be able to do this magic...transfiguration…the DNA is the part that is altered. The sequence must be changed to something else for he features to be something else. And for muggles and wizards to be able to reproduce…and for muggle born wizards and squibs to exist…the chromosome must be gametian…" She tuned back to look at him.

"From the hypothesis I am working on, at any rate," she conceded. An ice age passed, then Snape inclined his head slightly. Cecilia looked back at him, coming to terms with her own astonishment that she had actually come out with something as profound as that. It made sense, she knew it did, but it was the first time she had ever drawn it all together. She surveyed the room for some paper to write this down.

"That actually does make sense, from your hypothesis," said Snape, watching her search round the room. "What _are_ you looking for?"

"Paper. I need to get this down. I think it's important." She sat on the bed, and reached underneath for where she kept her notebook, then screamed as Snape pointed his wand at her, scrabbling to move out of the way.

"What!" exclaimed Snape, looking between Cecilia's horrified face from where she stood by the bathroom door and the new red-covered notebook on the bed where she had just been sitting. Cecilia sighed, and looked down.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "It was just…you pointed your wand at me…and…last week…" she looked back at Snape and returned to the bed, picking up the note book. Without meaning to she began to cry. Snape sat back down on the chair by her desk and said nothing waiting for her to finish.

"Thank you," said Cecilia quietly when she'd got it out of her system, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jumper. "Right, she said, swallowing. "Where were we?"

"You were discussing, Mrs Frobisher, about the hypothesis you were formulating about cellular reproduction in wizards. I do not believe any research has been done in this area, therefore your hypothesis may very well be correct." He looked back Cecilia, who had begun to write.

"I think the only way we can be sure if this is correct, is to check it. Are you free tomorrow evening, Severus? I'm going to need a volunteer." Snape got up.

"Yes, that will be fine. I'll meet you down at the potions dungeon at six. I think our work has begun to take us in the right direction." Cecilia nodded in agreement.

"Thank you again," she said, smiling wanly.

"For what?"

"For giving a silly muggle a second chance?"

"Well, silly muggle," said Snape, handing her a transparent potion bottle containing more of the green liquid Madam Pomfrey had made her drink earlier that day. "Your penance. Good night."

And with that, he left, leaving Cecilia alone to pull together all that they had discussed.

88888888

The next day passed quickly as Cecilia prepared for an experiment. She had assembled just about every piece of glassware, tubing, instrumentation and books in the potions dungeon. Usually this would only have taken her about an hour, but Dobby was keen to assist as ever and because her mind was focused on the set-up, when she looked up to check something or make sure a base had reacted, she found she had to undo Dobby's efforts and put them together correctly.

Unlike many researchers, who allowed techs to set up for them, Cecilia was unusual even in the muggle world because although it took her time, she found she could think clearer about the work at hand if she had a routine task to perform.

At 3pm she was finished, which was enough time to eat the sandwich Dobby had made for her and she spent a considerable amount of time enjoying the cheese and Branston pickle sandwich, her first real food in over a week.

"Thank you," she said to Dobby when she finished. "I really enjoyed that."

"Thank you, Lady," replied Dobby, magicking away her plate as she surveyed the experimental setup for the ninth time.

"Dobby feels proud to help Lady, because Dobby knows she fights Dark Wizards. But Dobby must leave now. Dobby has to help Winky and Bingo in the kitchen. We have a lot to prepare for next week." With that, he left, and Cecilia looked around again, pondered the premise again for which she had spent the whole day preparing.

It went like this. If she was right, and wizard cells performed mitosis in the same way as muggle cells, this would mean that the way in which muggles and wizards differed was not genetically. In fact this would not only mean they were genetically similar, hence the ability for muggle-born wizards and squibs to be born, it would also mean that the difference between them was something other than inheritance.

If however, mitosis did not take place, then they'd have to come up with another hypothesis as to how muggle born wizards actually did come about. Looking around for a final time, she yawned again and decided to take a walk outside before Snape arrived.

The late afternoon sun felt warm and soothing on Cecilia's face. Normally, she hated the sun, especially in the early summer months, where she'd burn mercilessly.

The grounds were as lovely as she had remembered them when she'd sat out reading "Mysterious Mythology", and she followed the path by the side of the school and down towards the lake.

I've still got a couple of hours before he arrives, she thought as she walked over the roofed bridge between the main castle and the owlery, and it occurred to her that she'd been so busy she'd forgotten to send her reply back to Libby.

Ascending the wide stone steps, Cecilia considered the events of the previous evening. How embarrassing that she should get so upset, she thought. But he didn't get annoyed or frustrated. We continued to discuss about work, and he didn't slate me as being a weak muggle, even when I was clearly acting like one.

As she got to the top, she selected a brown school owl, and carefully tied the letter to Libby round its leg, trying to avoid the pecks of which she was the target for disturbing it from its otherwise restful afternoon.

Heaven knows what he's going to say when I have to ask him for a blood sample though, thought Cecilia, as she climbed back down the stairs. Its all right to say that we agreed in principle yesterday, but another matter entirely if he refuses to believe the evidence before him.

Well if he refuses a sample at least I can show him my own. But that won't validate the hypothesis though, she thought as she headed towards cool shade of the forest. I think once he sees what I'm trying to prove I'm sure he'll understand the importance of it all she thought. And then that's all I can do.

Putting it aside her imperfect plans, Cecilia turned her attention to the beautiful environment around her. She felt much better even that yesterday, which can only be a good thing, especially considering the fact that she relegated Madam Pomfrey's potion to the bottom drawer of her desk untouched.

She descended the hill towards the lake, the beguiling colour of the flowers and plants festooning the ground layer and birds circled high overhead. What a lovely way to spend a few hours she thought absently, and headed towards the forest edge.

So caught up in her own thoughts Cecilia had not heard the footsteps approaching from behind an when two very large hands picked her up from the very ground she was standing on and hoisted he over a shoulder, the shocked scream she had intended to convey fell flat.

"Hold on, young hoyden, you," boomed the voice belonging to the hands and shoulder. "'Ere, stop struggling, you 'aint 'arf giving me a nuisance, strollin' off inter the Forbidden Forest..."

Recovering herself, but unable to move form the position in which this giant of a man was holding her, Cecilia screamed again. What on earth was this? And what was he going to do with her?

"Quieten down, lass, there's no need for that. Look, I just saved yer from a fate worse'n death." Still holding her, he strolled back up the hill as Cecilia struggled, stopping when he reached the hut she had noticed when she had walked past earlier, and unshouldered her.

"Now then," he said, putting her down in front of him. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me just exactly what you're doing strolling round the grounds of Hogwarts?"

Shaking, and with all the bravery she could muster, Cecilia looked firmly at the man, a good four foot taller than her and a good fifty stone heavier.

"And perhaps you could tell me just exactly what you're doing picking up people and carrying them off?" She coughed, trying to remain resolute, but the jellylike feeling she had under the surface was preparing to ooze between the hairline cracks of her outer courage.

"It's my business to know," said the huge man before her. "I am keeper of the grounds at Hogwarts, and a teacher." He leaned forward and towered over Cecilia, blocking out the south-west afternoon sun. "So, young lady, who is you and why was you going into the forest?"

Here we go, she thought, then remembered what Dumbledore had said almost a month ago when she'd arrived – that the gamekeeper and the caretaker knew she was here.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore must have mentioned me," she began, "but it would have been some time ago. I'm Cecilia Frobisher, and I'm working with Professor Snape." That's it, she thought, that's everything I have. If this giant's going to grind my bones to make his bread, he'd better get on with it soon.

He folded his arms resolutely and Cecilia was unnerved to find that his manner actually conveyed every sense of honesty and steadfastness, rather than terror. This last point was heavily underlined when, as he scratched his head thoughtfully she noticed his massive bushy beard had tiny flowers in it. After a few minutes, he smiled.

"Mrs Frobisher?" asked the giant man at last. "The muggle?" He smiled with more confidence as Cecilia nodded. "Yes...yes, that's right, Professor Dumbledore said you was comin'" He bent down to Cecilia's height.

"Look, I'm sorry ter frighten yer, its just since the Championship a few months ago, I've had to be extra careful with people I see around the grounds." When Cecilia said nothing and looked down, he added.

"I didn't hurt you, did I? Look," he said, gesturing towards the hut. "I've got a pot o' tea on, would you like some?" Cecilia nodded, trying not to let out the emotion pent up inside her, which started to ebb as she followed the man inside.

"Rubeus Hagrid," said the man, bowing as she entered. "This is my home." Cecilia looked round at the place, as if the furniture and the belongings inside had not so much been placed there, but had grown and evolved around their owner.

"You're a teacher here, Mr Hagrid?" asked Cecilia, sitting down where he was indicating moving a pile of what appeared to be filthy pieces of cloth from a farmhouse chair. "What is it that you teach?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," said Hagrid, pouring the water from the boiled kettle he had taken from the grate into a large teapot and swirling around the jorum. "This will be my third year, as a teacher that is. I've been gamekeeper for oh, thirty years. Milk?" Cecilia shook her head.

"That's good, cos I 'aint got none anyway," he added, pouring the dark tea into two cracked mugs. "The grounds is nice, Mrs Frobisher, but you must never go wandein' into the forest. 'Aint safe for wizards leastways, and for a little muggle like you, well, you wouldn't stand a chance 'gainst the werewolves and suchlike" Cecilia sipped at her tea. At least it had been made properly, though she was a bit disconcerted by the slightly bitter taste.

"What sort of creatures do you teach the care of, sir?" she asked, ignoring the "little muggle" comment.

"All sorts," he replied, setting down his mug. "Mostly the less dangerous ones now, snarks, gosshivers...but the hippogriff I had two years ago, he was a mighty fine fellow, mighty fine. Sentenced to death though, 'e were. If it 'adn't been fe' 'arry..."

"A hippogriff?" asked Cecilia, and an image of half a hippopotamus and half a griffin materialised in her mind. Hagrid fished around in his pocket and, pulling out a picture, passed it to Cecilia.

She looked at intently as the creature swooped past the image longitudinally and, as her eyes connected with those of the rider, the feelings she had done her best to put aside came marching unbidden out of their padlocked box, like a row of toy soldiers, flashing the week's memories before her.

"Just as he left, with young Sirius Black, that were. Two innocent lives saved that night..." his voice trailed off as he saw tears silently slipping down her cheeks.

"Oh my dear, whatever is the matter?" Hagrid looked at Cecilia in concern, and she handed the picture back to him.

"Come on, you can tell old Hagrid," he prompted, taking her mug off her.

Ten minutes later, and she had told him the whole sorry tale, relieved to finally get it off her chest, Hagrid sitting in stunned silence.

"Mrs Frobisher, I am appalled," said Hagrid, when she'd finished. "That a wizard I know so well, and have so much faith in, would do something like that to a muggle, and such a little one as yourself, I am utterly flabbergasted." He smiled at Cecilia.

"Thank you," said Cecilia. "I'm just glad to be able to talk to someone about it." Who doesn't have a vested interest in it all, she added, to herself. "Do you know Harry?" she added, remembering Hagrid's eyebrows raising in interest when she mentioned him.

"Do I know Harry? Well o' course I do! I was the one who took him to his aunt and uncles's house for Dumbledore. I was the one who went and found him to give him his Letter; tell 'im 'e were a wizard." Cecilia smiled at the down-to-earth affection he expressed.

"It's hard for him, with what he has had to go through. If it hadn't been for Ron and 'ermione, I don't know how 'e would have got through the last four years here. Especially the last year."

"Why?" asked Cecilia. "What happened last year?"

"The Triwizard Championship, o'course." He looked across at Cecilia's bemused expression. "How much has Professor Snape told you about the recent history of Hogwarts?"

"Not much," conceded Cecilia. "But I do know that the head Dark wizard...Voldermort...was back..." She put her hand over her mouth as Hagrid shushed her.

"Well, to cut a long story short, he...You-Know-Who...managed to get hold of Harry, and used his blood to get reborn. It was through sheer luck that Harry managed to get away from him; put up one 'ell of a fight though, did 'arry..."

Cecilia turned this sentence over in her mind. This You-Know-Who...Voldermort, this evil wizard...he was able to come back from the brink of death using Harry's blood...

Half an hour later and Cecilia is privileged to hear the unexpurgated story of the events surrounding the Triwizard Championship, and it was only when she heard the school clock faintly toll six that she excused herself from Hagrid's company.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr Hagrid," said Cecilia, extending her hand. Hagrid smiled, but looked down at her extended limb.

"You shake it," prompted Cecilia, and grinned when Hagrid took her whole wrist in his hand, and worked it up and down.

"Same for you, Mrs Frobisher..."

"Cecilia..." interjected Cecilia.

"...Cecilia," continued Hagrid, grinning down at her. "You're one of the nicest muggles I've ever met. I am sorry to hear about the dreadful events of last week. Please come to visit, any time..." he added, gesturing towards the hut door.

88888888

Late, thought Cecilia, as she hurried up the stars to the main teaching area, and down again to the dungeons. I hope he's not already there, I made enough of a fool of myself yesterday.

She reached the large bossed door soon after, and opened it, scanning the room for Snape.

"Sorry, I got delayed," she said automatically to the empty room. Oh, she thought, looking round, and her gaze caught the experiment setup.

She checked the setup again, and despite nothing having changed from that morning, she readjusted the aperture on the microscope and refocused the objective lens.

Well, there's nothing else for it but to wait, she thought, and sat down on one of the stools with "Magic and Muggles" rechecking the facts about squibs and muggle-borns.

Snape arrived an hour later, striding in with a face of stone.

"Explain, Cecilia," he intoned, gesturing towards the equipment. Ignoring his lateness, she quickly detailed the aim and purpose of the setup, and linked it back to the hypothesis of both muggle and wizard cells reproducing mitotically.

"I need samples from both a muggle and a wizard," she said, and pressed on without leaving him time to continue. "I've already got my own, so if you want to watch the mitosis in the lymphocytes; that should give you some idea of what we are talking about."

"So what sample do you need?" he asked, sitting down on the bench near her. Cecilia sighed.

"I already have mine," she said, holding a vial of blood. She paused. The ball was in his court. Whatever his reaction was now, that was the real test of their working relationship.

"I feel that in order to make this a fair test, you should take the sample yourself," said Snape, rolling up the right sleeve of his robe. "I assume you have the necessary equipment?"

Without saying anything, Cecilia pulled out another sterile needle from her bag. She pulled out the needle and attached it firmly to the accompanying syringe, ensuring that there was a tight fit. She glanced up at Snape as she approached him.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You did it yourself, and you're still around." he retorted. That's not exactly what I meant, thought Cecilia, and held his right arm, which he'd exposed from under his robe...

...an hour later, and Cecilia was feeling on top of the world. Not only had the experiment worked for her blood sample, illustrating clearly the division of the white blood cells as they merrily made copies of themselves, but also Snape's evident fascination with what he had seen.

"Remarkable," he said, glancing over at Cecilia. "I never thought the human body could hold so many marvels...

"Did you see the second phase?" asked Cecilia, eagerly. He nodded.

"It's both of those things," she said, "...both of those phases. A similar process happens in the gametes when they reproduce before fertilisation..." She reached across for Snape's blood sample and began to prepare another slide.

"Your turn," she said, as she allowed a few drops of blood to cover the slide, and added the peroxide solution, slipping on the thin sheet of plastic to prevent the sample sticking to the lens. She handed it to Snape.

"Just take the other one out," she said, as he looked uncertainly at her. "And put this one in its place. It's your blood after all, you deserve to be the first of us to see..."

Taking the slide from her, he did as she had said, and Cecilia stood back, trying to stop herself from pacing. When he was still staring down the microscope, her patience finally gave way and, as politely as she could asked, "Severus?"

"Yes..." he said, stepping aside from the microscope and turning to her. "My cells are doing the same as yours...they are reproducing. I can clearly see the metaphase stage... Its mitosis, Cecilia, as you described..." There was wonder in his voice…

"Yes!" shouted Cecilia, walking over to him and looking down. "I can't believe it!" But she had to. It was happening, right there and then, before her very eyes. She looked back at Snape.

"You know what this means then?" she said, smiling at him. When he didn't reply, she continued. "That we've taken the first step in understanding the difference between muggles and wizards..."

He looked back at her, his face impassive. Eventually, he spoke.

"I must apologise, Cecilia," he said at last. "Until just now I doubted your commitment to this work, this research. I believed that you saw it as an excitement, entertainment. I was wrong. I even doubted you after Black's attempt on your life. Forgive me..." She had never seen that expression on his face before. There seemed to be genuine regret there.

"There's nothing to forgive, Severus," said Cecilia. "But I have to admit, I felt the same towards your attitude. Up until you looked down that microscope. When you did that, you showed that you weren't just paying lip-service to science. You actually understand it, and want to know how to use it..."

Her voice trailed off and an absence of spoken dialogue ensued and Cecilia and Snape looked at each other conveying unspoken professional respect. Finally, Snape spoke.

"So, the cells replicate," he said, nodding towards the slides. "They are similar in that respect. What we need to look for now is how they are different." Cecilia nodded and looked back over at Snape's sample again.

"I'll need to make a detailed sketch of this," she said, "and compare it to my own." She looked back up. "Are you certain there are no records of any wizards who have studied this deeply?"

Snape shook his head.

"Then I think what we'll need to do is test both of our samples for amino acid content in the assay. If there are any significant differences, this might give us a lead." Cecilia sat down next to Snape again on the bench, and considered the day's work. It had been excellent...

Half an hour later and Cecilia and Snape were in her room discussing what they were going to try next. Snape had suggested the effect of magic on the cells, and Cecilia agreed, but with one proviso.

"We need to consider whether all wizard cells behave like this," she said, nibbling the end of her pencil.

"I mean, reading that book I bought, it would suggest that squibs are just like muggles in the way that they are not able to do magic, but we don't know if it's scientifically true. Also, what about the distinctions you make, about muggle born wizards, and pure bloods? This may make a difference to Harry..." She leaned back against the stone wall of the room, relaxing as best she could against it.

"We should test whether the mitosis responds to magic," said Snape, looking at her. "If mine does, and yours does not, this may also suggest a difference in the cells themselves..."

Cecilia had to concede. She wondered how long it would take him to spot the next logical step that she had tried to ignore, taking the trouble to stress the science side of the work rather than the magic side.

"You are right of course," said Cecilia, inclining her head downwards and rubbing her temples. "Perhaps we should progress onto that tomorrow?" When he did not reply, Cecilia looked back up.

"Ahead of us continuing this discussion Cecilia, might I ask how far the events of last week have affected you?" Before she had time to deny it, he added, "In particular, your reaction last night...?" Cecilia stood up.

"I trust you, Severus," she said, evenly. "And I am sure you understand by now that I would never do anything unprofessional..." she looked at him, feeling a little unsettled.

"All I can say is, if I had not made the monumental error which was leaving last Friday night, I would not feel as concerned about the effects of magic. I would not be as jumpy very time my fire flickers, or anticipate every corner in case Peeves has actually got hold of whatever the house elves are cooking to wang in my direction..." she sagged, thinking about the near miss she'd had that very morning, and sat down on the bed, glancing at the floor, then looked back up to face him.

"Most importantly, I wouldn't look like I'd gone six rounds with Frank Bruno and we might have got to this stage by last week..." she sighed, making the most of the forthcoming silence.

"I will get over this though," she added, when he'd said nothing. "But I need to ask for your patience..." Snape stood up and walked towards the door.

"They have affected you more than I imagined," he intoned, and there was a slight edge to his voice and he walked back towards Cecilia, taking one of her hands between his icy own momentarily, in an apparent comforting gesture.

"It may not appear objective when I say this, Cecilia, but I know Black, and his…friends. I know what they are like and how they behave. They were the same at school, and nothing has changed, in particular Black's audacity to do anything to get exactly what he likes..." he stopped, and Cecilia noticed a bitter edge to his voice which in some strange way was actually rather comforting and made her feel a little less paranoid.

"We should continue along both paths," said Snape, his voice returning to its usual tone and resonance. "I can obtain more samples of wizard blood, that won't be a problem. Now I am more familiar with the phenomenon of cellular reproduction Cecilia, I can take the lead on that side."

Remarkable, thought Cecilia, and was amazed at his response to their work for the second time that day. More amazing still is that he had considered her feelings, something which she never would have believed possible, even a day ago. She nodded in agreement.

"Tomorrow then?" she said, nodding towards Snape as he made his way towards the door.

"Six," he intoned, and closed the door behind him.

For a few minutes Cecilia stared at the closed door, thinking about the day's events, before locking it firmly and pulling off her clothes in lieu of a wash and a sleep.

Had she been thinking a little more clearly and taken more notice of the little events that had contributed to the small but significant details of the day, she may have taken care to glance in the direction of the fireplace...

88888888

The week progressed quickly and their research became further embedded in science. By Wednesday, Snape had been able to make the cells in his blood sample respond using a variety of spells, with corresponding null results in Cecilia's.

Concurrently, Cecilia had made further progress with the origin of the wizard blood, and in particular had found here was a significantly higher proportion of beta amino acid in the pure blood and half blood samples; with more in the muggle-born samples and comparable "normal" levels in squib and muggle. Inn addition, she continued to add to her already comprehensive analysis of ingredients and potions.

Cecilia had also visited Madam Pomfrey again, and the healer had provided her with some notes of her grandfathers and Cecilia read them through avidly, paying particular attention to the man referred to in the notes as Raymond Lully. It appeared that Lully had been a particular help when Pompops Pomfrey had been perfecting potions and curing muggles. However Cecilia could find no reference of him in the library, and even Pompops' own notes made scant reference to his method of determining effective and safe potions for muggles.

"I expect you'll be needing some more potion yourself, Cecilia" said Madam Pomfrey, on Thursday. "You'll be out of it now, I suppose."

Cecilia looked up absently from the Pompops's notes. She had taken to reading them in the hospital wing when Madam Pomfrey was around as she was able to provide details from what she remembered about him.

"Yes, Poppy," she said guiltily, thinking about the potion still sitting in her bottom drawer and made a mental note to get rid of it and return empty vial.

"It says here," continued Cecilia, "That the goblin riots are becoming more prolific..." she looked on, "...and Pompops was not able to go to many of the muggle hospitals, despite an increase in the number of cases..."

"Oh, he'll be referring to the riots of 1956," said Poppy, as she busily mixed a tincture near at the other end of the hospital wing. "It was the precursor to the dark times, the evil times." She looked up and set down her work.

"It was thought that You-Know-Who was behind the riots, though it was never proven," she explained carefully, looking up at Cecilia. "He whipped up a frenzy within the goblin community regarding their status as slaves when they were more magical than muggles. It led to many hundreds of muggles being killed, and in the end the goblins in wizard banks the world over rioted in the streets..."

"How come I've never heard of that?" said Cecilia, intrigued. "Granted, not the goblin riots, but those of muggles?"

"It was all put down to the Cold War," said Madam Pomfrey. "It was decided between the powers of Europe, when our Minister for Magic contacted them, that they would be covered up in exchange for the ringleader's capture."

"But it's still going on!" said Cecilia. "The ringleader has never been caught!"

"It got much worse than either the muggle or wizard governments could ever have imagined, and the repercussions are still being felt..." she looked pointedly at her. Cecilia sighed.

"Even the little people have an effect on the world…" she said, half to herself.

"How profound of you to say so," said Madam Pomfrey, going back to her potion.

"I didn't," said Cecilia, looking back though Pompops' notes again. "But what Tolkien was talking about was make-believe…"

88888888

Later that evening, Cecilia could not sleep. Snape had walked out of their research session an hour earlier, which was a great pity. Not only had Cecilia wanted to tackle the beginning of atomic theory, but she was also quite disconcerted because up until then their work was proceeding well.

Lying on the bed she thought about the discussion they had had earlier that evening, trying to get to the bottom of what had gone on. She'd been testing more of Snape's potions and had come to wolfsbane, a powerful potion which Snape had explained allowed a werewolf in their human form to keep their mind during transformation, thereby sparing them the ignobility of wanton savagery.

Cecilia had laughed aloud at the notion, despite Hagrid having said not so many days ago that they inhabited the forbidden forest.

Snape had been astounded, not least in contrast to Cecilia's open-mindedness to other magical phenomena. There are limit's she'd said...

The conversation had shifted then to school and Cecilia had asked him about teaching potions. She'd described the experience of teaching muggle children and was surprised to find there was very little difference in their general attitude to school and learning. Cecilia had said that this must be anecdotal evidence to show how alike muggles and wizards actually were.

But when the conversation led onto family traits and inheritance, something which Cecilia considered the next logical step in the research Snape had gone silent, and she had found it very hard to coax anything out of him.

Worse still, when she tried to extend the theory of mitosis to gametian reproduction – meiosis, he had given her a cold look and departed without saying a word...

She'd asked him if he was well; she'd saw him wipe his forehead with the back of his hand and once or twice grip his left forearm once or twice...

What had she said, thought Cecilia to herself. She'd mentioned about children of wizards and muggles too, and she'd speculated about the parents of the people whose blood samples they were to be testing...

Cecilia sat up, and thought about the theory they still had to cover and wondered whether collision theory of atoms was wholly appropriate. Maybe she needed to understand the work of Gregor Mendel and Darwin, to get over the idea of genes and DNA. But he actually needed to be here so they could do it…

She glanced down at the fire, lost in thought and it was a moment before she noticed the head, glowing emerald green in the hearth.

"Wotcher!" came a familiar voice, and Tonks's image appeared in flame.

"Tonks! This is a surprise!" cried Cecilia, jumping. "How are you?"

"How are you, more to the point?" she asked, and Cecilia sat cross-legged in front of the fire.

"I've felt better, " she said, looking across at the younger woman. "I'm more frustrated actually…

"Half a mo, Cecilia, and I'll come over. I'm only in Hogsmeade.," and the fire dimmed to nothing.

Cecilia sat back, her legs feeling cold against the flagstones, and smiled. Tonks, she thought, remembering the pretty witch with multicolour hair, and that wonderful shopping trip to M & S.

Well that explains the green fire I keep seeing, she thought to herself and actually felt much brighter at the prospect of her visit.

88888888

Half an hour later, Tonks had arrived and had reasoned with her that if Snape had left that evening, and she couldn't carry on with anything worthwhile, then she should throw caution to the wind and join her at the Three Broomsticks.

They headed out of the teacher's area; Tonks had insisted on taking her through the back way of the castle, through a secret passage and out into an open field, where the lights of Hogsmeade twinkled in the distance, complementing the full moon. When Cecilia asked why they simply hadn't gone through the front gates of Hogwarts, she smiled inwardly as Tonks explained that it didn't feel like proper rebelliousness otherwise!

It was getting a bit cold now, and the late summer sun had long since dipped over the horizon. When Cecilia had shivered, wishing she had brought a jacket with her, Tonks had realised and conjured one there and then, and Cecilia had to admit that there were advantages of magic…

"Two butterbeers," said Tonks, when they got inside. "How are you tonight, Rosie?"

"Oh, fine, you know," said Madam Rosmerta, pouring the drinks. "A lot better when school starts; that's when our biggest trade is. Yourself?"

"Super," she said, then leaned conspiratorially over the bar. "But you know, it would be really handy if we could stay here a bit," she said, looking over and nodding towards Cecilia. "Man trouble," she clarified. Madam Rosmerta nodded.

"Seeing as it's you, Tonks," she said, and then frowned slightly. "Who is she, anyway?"

"Just a friend," said Tonks, taking the butterbeers. "Had a few problems with a relative of mine," she winked. "So I told her I'd take her to the best place I knew to forget about him."

Madam Rosmerta came out from behind the bar and headed towards the door. Shutting it before her and turning the sign round, she nodded and said, "Take all the time you need, I'll just be in the back."

"Here you go," said Tonks, placing the drinks on the table. "You'll like this. " Cecilia looked at it a little suspiciously.

"What is it?" she asked, warily.

"Butterbeer," said Tonks, sipping it. "It's lovely; try a bit," she said, gesturing towards the glass.

"Thanks, Tonks," replied Cecilia but, still cautious of drinking remotely anything magical, she paused. Tonks sighed.

"It OK; there's nothing magical about it," and smiled encouragingly. "Except that it is alcoholic, because we're over 17..." Cecilia looked across to her as she took a sip. The drink tasted lovely; she could definitely taste honey; there was cinnamon and hops and a slight hint of a rounded bitter taste.

"See," said Tonks, nodding at Cecilia's approval of the drink. "Told you you'd like it!" But I really didn't expect you to react like that, she thought to herself, it's really affected you…

Half an hour later and they were both laughing. Tonks had told Cecilia about her popping into Professor McGonagall's fire by accident and being soundly rebuked for intruding. When Cecilia asked Tonks about her, she regaled her with stories from when she was at Hogwarts and how she had caught Tonks hanging a boy out of the third floor window by his ankles when he's called her a chameleon.

"I didn't know Professor McGonagall was in the castle," said Cecilia, sipping her drink. "What's the reason?"

"It's school starting on Saturday, isn't it?" Tonks nodded at her expectantly. "When the students start term?"

Cecilia nodded, recalling Snape mentioning it a couple of days ago. Hundreds of students, wizards and witches... The place would be quite busy...

"Not to worry though, not all of them are as bad as me!" Tonks laughed, taking in Cecilia's expression.

It was marvellous, thought Cecilia how little time it had taken for Tonks to put her at her ease. Very much a people person…like Libby. So completely different to herself. If she had been a person prone to envy, it would have been of the apparent lack of effort the younger woman needed in order to be personable and know exactly the right thing to say and to whom.

"That's what comes of my clumsy nature," said Tonks, leaning back.

"Clumsy?" said Cecilia. "I haven't noticed."

"It's usually when I metamorphose. My change in appearance usually makes a great deal of difference. That and when I'm nervous. When I was very much younger and I used to talk to Sirius and James and Remus. I used to be really clumsy then, and they'd all laugh…" she added, with a smile. "Well, Sirius and James mostly…"

"Not Remus?" asked Cecilia, raising an eyebrow and imagining in her mind's eye Tonks as a hoydenish little thing.

"No," laughed Tonks. "He used to stick up for me and talk to me when I got upset, even when Sirius teased him about it. I suppose he liked me, even then. I liked him too…" she sighed, and Cecilia glanced at her happy smile.

"Of course he never listens to anything I have to say now, even when it's important," said Tonks. "He goes and does quite the opposite. I'm really lucky to be able to spend so much time with him"

She sipped her butterbeer glass and added wistfully, "And while he may not think it himself, but I think he's simply wonderful." Cecilia smiled, remembering how she had felt like that about Tim once, and was pleased for Tonks.

"So listen," said Tonks, now refocusing her attention back on Cecilia. "I know what my stupid cousin did is still making you feel bad, is it any better out here?"

"Before I answer that Tonks, there's something I've been wanting to ask you." Cecilia put down her butterbeer and looked back at the young witch. Tonks looked at her, expectantly.

"Why do you think Remus wanted me to stay back at Gimmauld Place? I've been over and over it in my mind, trying to work it out..." Cecilia sighed, and took a sip of her drink.

"He was there when I woke up from all of that. He was happy when I became a member of the Order; he expressed to me how important the work was for us all. But that's the thing, isn't it? No matter what way I look at it, I can't understand why he would want me to stay at Grimmauld Place when he knew I needed to work here with Snape..."

"I really don't know, Cecilia," she said, smiling back at her. "He was pretty put out that Sirius treated you so badly. I know he doesn't like Snape, but he more than anyone knows how important our work is, how important it could be..."

"So you don't think he was just sticking up for his friend then, trying to succeed where Sirius failed?"

"No way," said Tonks, laughing into her drink. "He was gutted when he saw what Sirius had done. He even stopped Sirius seeing you when you said you didn't want to see him. I've never seen Remus so annoyed with anyone..." Cecilia nodded, then frowned slightly. He tried to stop Sirius seeing her? That didn't sound like someone backing up their friend...

"Only I just thought...he might be, you know, trying a different tack. Not that I can't see Sirius's point though," conceded Cecilia. "I'd be upset if I thought anyone was going to harm Freya. My goddaughter," she clarified, sipping her drink again and feeling much more relaxed than she had done an hour ago.

"I just wish that when Sirius was trying to make his point, he hadn't tried to kill me to make it, though." Tonks giggled, and Cecilia smiled too. She was glad Tonks had persuaded her to come out that evening, she could feel the break doing her good.

"So I can tell Remus you're not angry with him any more?" Cecilia nodded, wondering vaguely why her approval was that important. But it was for Tonks really wasn't it? Cecilia felt a glow of happiness that Tonks had cared so much about her feelings.

"Sirius is sorry too," added Tonks, hopefully. "He has always had problems with people he has been close to. Do you remember that I said he used to spend a lot of time with me and mum?" Cecilia nodded.

"The Black family have always been Purist, so when mum married dad, and Sirius stayed in touch, they disowned him, cut him out of the will and everything. He used to stay with James, Harry's father, in the hols from school. James's parents were so kind to him, and he was over the moon when Harry was born; like a second father to him, he was. Another?" asked Tonks, gesturing to Cecilia's empty glass. She nodded, thanking her.

When she returned, a few minutes later having chatted with Madam Rosmerta about staying in for the duration, Tonks handed Cecilia another drink, and fished out a picture from her pocket.

"That's me," she said, pointing at the moving image. "I was eight when that was taken, and Sirius and James were twenty two..." She handed it to Cecilia.

The picture was taken in what looked like London. Hyde Park, thought Cecilia, if I'm not very much mistaken. James was instantly recognisable, he was almost the spitting image of Harry, only Harry in about eight years' time.

Her glance shifted to the very youthful looking face of Sirius, nodding inwardly. His face was handsome; his long dark hair framing it perfectly. His eyes still displaying that roguish unpredictability that she remembered from the Order meeting. It was no wonder Snape had labelled him a womaniser. What woman wouldn't have fallen for that face? She handed the picture back to Tonks.

"You're very sweet there," said Cecilia. "A special occasion?"

"My birthday," said Tonks, tucking the picture back up inside her robe. "I loved going out with them, my big cousin Sirius..."

"Severus said he was popular, " mused Cecilia.

"They all were, all four of them. Sirius, James, Remus and Peter...always getting into mischief. McGonagall nicknamed them the Marauders. Snape was always the butt of their humour, him and Malfoy. Always bragging about the things they'd done. Quite awful things actually..." she added, taking in Cecilia's horrified expression.

She could just imagine it...that same cold manner, like he was nothing. Despite what Severus must have been like at school, despite how strange and odd he is now, no-one deserves to be treated like that. I didn't either...

"You're right," said Tonks, looking down, and Cecilia realised she'd spoken her thoughts aloud.

"I can understand why Severus warned me from trusting them..."

"There's good in him," said Tonks carefully. "The years he spent in Azkaban, accused of the deaths of his best friends...the fact he is stuck inside, unable to do anything substantial to avenge them. The loyalty he shows for a friend every month in the forest..." Tonks looked beseechingly at her.

"He is committed to getting rid of You-Know-Who...he's sorry for what he did to you, Cecilia..."

"I can't say I forgive him, Tonks. I'm not sure I can ever say that. But I think we can probably make some sort of amends. I mean, we're both in the Order, we're both working towards the same goal. Though I think it may be a long time yet before I visit Grimmauld Place again..." she added, smiling over the top of her glass and drawing a subconscious line under what was past.

The conversation continued into the night, moving through subject after subject. They talked over Madam Emaness's shop, and made plans to visit muggle clothes shops as soon as they possibly could and Tonks promised to look in on Amy as often as she could too. Cecilia also mentioned Raymond Lully, who Madam Pomfrey's grandfather had spoken of most cryptically in his notes and Tonks promised to investigate him before explaining in great detail about the houses at Hogwarts with particular reference to her favourite sport Quidditch.

It wasn't until when the faint rays of dawn refracted through the Three Broomsticks' window that either of them realised they'd spent the whole night in the pub, and Tonks offered to walk her back to Hogwarts.

As they walked over the fields towards the school whilst the sun began to rise, Cecilia felt a weight off her mind...

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Cecilia followed Tonks back through the secret passage, and back into the school. She felt tired now; it'd been a long time since she'd gone out drinking all night, and she'd mentally planned to spend at least some of the morning in bed.

"Thanks, Tonks," said Cecilia as they got to the door of her room. "It's been great seeing you."

"No need for thanks," replied Tonks, grinning. "I enjoyed it too. We'll have to do it again sometime..." her voice trailed and her eyes widened, and Cecilia turned to see Snape coming out of her room.

"Good night was it," intoned Snape icily, eyeing the two women standing in the corridor. He looked between Tonks and Cecilia, and she noticed how pale Tonks had become and that her hair had become very washed out.

"And just where have you been?" he asked accusingly.

"With me," said Tonks, nervously. "We, er went out..." Her voice went thin and she looked across at Cecilia.

"And just what has that got to do with you?" asked Cecilia, stepping up to him. "As I recall you left last night without so much as a word –" She glanced back at Tonks. The young witch had gone even paler.

"It has everything to do with me. You were entrusted to my care. It was not safe for you to leave the castle, especially last night..." He glared at her, and she stared back

"Look..." she said firmly. How dare he try to tell her off? "You left last night, I didn't know where you were either. I came to look for you...Perhaps you'd like to explain exactly what kind of danger you are referring that I don't already know about?"

"Wandering around the castle at night, especially without the grounds...there are many dangers that even a competent wizard would find challenging..."

"And yet no harm came to me. I was with Tonks." She looked across at the witch, whose face had clicked into an expression of horrified realisation. Snape snorted, eyeing Tonks critically.

"In that case, you might as well have gone looking for trouble," he said, still staring at Tonks. "Did the events of a fortnight ago teach you nothing?"

Cecilia looked across at Tonks, whose hair now resembled icing sugar, and noticed a glimpse of unspoken dialogue pass between her and Snape.

"Thanks for a great night," she said, her tone laden with meaning. "See you soon." Tonks broke away her fixed stare from Snape and began to edge back down toward the secret passage. From a safe distance she looked back at her and, taking in Cecilia's expression of determination and smiled briefly. Then Cecilia turned back to Snape.

"So what was that all about?" She shouldered past him, and sank onto the bed, aware of the ache down her side beginning to toll. "And is that why you're in my room at 5 o'clock in the morning, to check I'm safe?"

"That wretched house-elf came looking for me in the middle of the night. According to him you'd been kidnapped by Dark Wizards." He looked at her disdainfully, but Cecilia was too tired to care. "However I neglected to account for the measure of foolishness inherent in your kind, so I needn't have worried. Also, Dumbledore is looking for you."

Cecilia looked up at him. "What?"

"I said, I discounted how stupid muggles can be..." He folded his arms.

"No, something about Dumbledore."

"He's looking for you, he wants to see you. Now"

Cecilia got to her feet, trying to imagine what for. She threw open a few drawers, looking for something fresh and clean to wear. Dumbledore wanted to see her now?

"Did he say what about?" she said distractedly, pulling off her jumper.

"No," said Snape, taking in her semi-clothed appearance. "But you might find it beneficial to wear something a bit more...suitable…"

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Cecilia paused before Dumbledore's huge office door.

"Come!" he said, Just as she was about to knock. How on earth does he do that, she wondered, and pushed against the heavy door.

"Ah, Mrs Frobisher," said Dumbledore, who was sitting before his desk. "How are you? Settling back into life at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, thank you Professor," she said, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Madam Pomfrey tells me you are making a fine recovery, despite your refusal to remain in bed for as long as she sees fit..." he gave her a wink, before continuing.

"And your work with Professor Snape...?" he prompted, gesturing towards a large chair that had appeared near the desk.

"Good..." said Cecilia, a little disconcerted. She'd brought her notebook up just in case, but she wasn't sure what to expect. Why would Dumbledore want to see her so early in the morning?

"Oh, it's the muggle is it?" a voice coming from near the fireplace rang out haughtily before Dumbledore had a chance to say anything, and Cecilia turned to see an elderly wizard staring at her, leaning against the left-hand side of his frame.

"Muggles at Hogwarts," he added, sullenly, "would never have happened in my day..."

"Phineas, please," said Dumbledore, getting up. "This is Cecilia Frobisher. She's working with Severus Snape on the assignment."

The man from within the portrait stared back at Cecilia, so she did what any self-respecting teacher would do.

"Hello...Phineas is it?" she said genially, walking towards Dumbledore. "Nice to meet you..." She smiled at the portrait. The man continued to stare, but glanced across at Dumbledore once or twice.

"Well I suppose if she's helping you Albus, then I suppose that's fine by me..."

"And me..." another picture chimed in. "Dilys," she said, smiling warmly at Cecilia. "If you need our assistance in any way my dear, my other portrait is by the entrance to the Great Hall, please don't hesistate...any time...any time..."

"Now that you've met some of the former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts," said Dumbledore warmly, waving his arm towards the row of portraits over the fireplace, many of whom nodded or waved at her, "there are some further details we need to discuss." He paused, waiting for Cecilia to sit back down.

"Professor Snape has informed me that your research is under way and that despite the events of a fortnight ago, you have put aside your hesitation of magic to forge ahead." Cecilia nodded in agreement, wondering why on earth he had excused her to Dumbledore.

"He also informs me that you have put forth an hypothesis about wizard and muggles?" He looked at Cecilia. "In the way that they might be connected?" he prompted.

The conversation that she had had with Snape yesterday afternoon reformed itself in her mind, and she realised at once that what Dumbledore was talking about was the genetic inheritance. He had been so interested in the meiosis experiment, but because he ran off, she had assumed she had been wrong, or made one too many assumptions and he was putting her in her place...

"I, er, that is to say, we discussed the possibility of an inherited genetic link between parents and children in the wizard world..." Dumbledore nodded.

"Do you feel everyone should know about science, Cecilia?"

"Yes," said Cecilia quickly. "Up until I came to work here Professor, I was certain that science answered almost everything that makes up the world, to a greater or lesser extent. However I feel that more strongly than ever, the longer I work here because there are so many things that have yet to be explained, yet wizards as a whole have not got a framework by which to interpret them. And there's so much more for us to understand..."

Dumbledore nodded, looking across at Cecilia over his half-moon spectacles.

"On Saturday, our school year begins. The students arrive and their lessons begin on Monday. However we cannot allow you to be here when this happens, your work with Professor Snape is vital and must be kept strictly secret."

Cecilia felt her heart sink. So she was going to have to leave then. But where to? If he suggests Grimmauld Place, she thought, I'm going to seriously have to consider saying no...

"From your testimony just now, may I be right in inferring that you believe everyone should be taught science?" Cecilia nodded, but before she said anything, Dumbledore continued.

"In addition to our lessons in magic, Cecilia, we also teach muggle studies. Our teacher, Madam Cadwallader, has decided to take a break from teaching. Ordinarily I wouldn't have bothered to replace her, muggle studies not being a required Owl examination subject and out of the jurisdiction of the Ministry. Its not compulsory, but we do encourage it" He paused from pacing before the fire to look at Cecilia again.

"I feel that this would be an opportunity to...shall we say, kill two birds with one stone...? Sorry, Fawkes," added Dumbledore, in response to Fawkes's indignant squawk.

Cecilia paused, not quite getting her head round it all. And then it dawned on her,

"Your not suggesting...you want me to...teach? Here?" she looked down, trying to take it all in. "You want me to teach...muggle studies..? To wizard children...here?" She looked back questioningly at Dumbledore.

"I want you to teach science, Cecilia, as the Muggle Studies lessons. If we say no more than...six hours a week, this will give you more than enough time to work with Severus in the evenings. This will give you a legitimate reason to remain at Hogwarts, in an environment in which you are familiar." He paced back to his chair, and stopped.

"And of course, Harry will be here, which will make it extremely convenient for your research..."

"Take some time to think about it," he added, when Cecilia had not replied.

Teach science...to wizards... But they would be children though wouldn't they? Cecilia thought back to that evening, when she had had supper with Mrs Weasley and the children. Such insular ideas, such prejudices...

Such prejudices which have resulted in one madman to impact on even her life...not forgetting the countless other lives, muggle and wizard...

"Is there anything in particular you'd like me to teach?" she asked, feeling her mind fill with little arrows, trying to direct her thoughts every which way.

"Only I could also teach about the wider part of science the responsibility we have, the history...I could even try to put it in context with wizard history...if I had the time that is..."

"So you are saying that you'll do it, Cecilia?" Looking into her eyes and seeing the spark of excitement behind them, he did not wait for a reply.

"That is excellent. Your first lesson will be on Monday, then. I'll get Professor McGonagall to write you into the timetable..."

Dumbledore smiled, and Cecilia smiled back, feeling a lot more assertive than she had done in a long time and thinking too what her fate might be if she sank like a stone in front of a class of young wizards. Maybe being a frog wasn't so bad….

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	12. Trials of a Teacher

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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"I wonder how many first years will end up in Gryffindor?" said Ron as they approached the Great Hall. "Last year there was only eight; I hope we'll do better than that this year."

"It's not a competition, Ron," said Hermione. "It's down to their nature, isn't it? Their personal qualities."

"Well let's just hope that plenty of the first years are courageous, brave and strong, then," said Harry, smiling a little as they walked into the Great Hall.

"What about new teachers?" said Fred, as they sat halfway down at the Gryffindor table. "There are always new teachers...do you reckon Dumbledore is going to give Snape his heart's desire this year?"

"Snape? Defence against the Dark Arts?" said Ron. "You've got to be kidding."

"So who do you reckon then? Someone new?" said Harry

"Have to be. Mad-eye couldn't wait to get out of Hogwarts after you and Dumbledore found him locked in his own trunk. Dad said he's worse than ever now."

"Well, no-one could beat Professor Lupin," said Hermione, matter-of-factly. "He was by far the best teacher we've ever had."

"Do you think it could be Lupin?" asked Ron.

"No, "said Harry, scanning the teacher's table. "I don't reckon it would be him, he's got too much on with the..."

"Are you all right, Harry?" said Hermione, looking at him. "Only you've gone a little pale..." her voice trailed off too when she saw where Harry was looking.

"Harry, it's her..." said Ron in a low voice, "Mrs Frobisher!" And it was...sitting there next to Snape, Cecilia began to feel increasingly uncertainty as the Great Hall began to fill up.

"Well that can only be a good sign," said Hermione. Both Ron and Harry stared at her.

"She's sitting at the teacher's table? It means we understand what Dumbledore was talking to you about, Harry. She's a new teacher, so she'll be able to work with you on the weapon." Hermione looked between them both. "Honestly, I really do wonder about you two."

"Who's that?" asked Seamus to Ron.

"Mrs Frobisher," replied Ron, still staring at her. "We met her in the summer, she's a mugfgfgfgf..." said Ron, as Harry elbowed him in the ribs. "A mother...of one of the children mum was looking after in the summer..."

"She looks nervous," whispered Hermione.

"Who wouldn't, sitting next to the head of Slytherin house?" said Neville, sitting down next to Ron. "I'd be very nervous sitting next to Professor Snape."

They all looked at Cecilia, who was taking in the sight of the Great Hall with wonder and awe, then glanced over to Snape for reassurance.

"Did she just smile at Snape?" said Seamus, gobsmacked. "Well I never thought I'd live to see the day!" Harry looked at Cecilia, then across at the Slytherin table. Some of them had noticed Cecilia smile at Snape too.

"Well he's being his usual helpful self then," muttered Ron under his breath. "Poor Cecilia."

"Cecilia?" said George, trying to hide a snigger.

"Well that's her name, isn't it?" said Ron, defensively. Changing the subject he added, "Do you think she's here because of you?"

"Bound to be. Why else would she be sitting at the teacher's table?"

Just then, Professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall with the new intake of first years. Cecilia watched them form a queue, noticing how quickly silence descended over the Great Hall and she tried to distil her feelings about right now down to one or two adjectives.

Since she had agreed to teach muggle studies, she'd felt first, exhilarated. She was going to teach children again, and teach them science, no less. In addition, she would be teaching these children a little about the social context and the way of a world that they merely had a passing acquaintance. This was a responsibility.

Some of these children however, Dumbledore had told her, may not be receptive to her teachings. There may even be out-and-out hostility. Cecilia looked round the Great Hall again, past the sorting ceremony which was now well underway, and the marvels of the ceiling and spectacular gravity-defying candles (she made a mental note to investigate this at some stage)...out at the sea of faces who, on Monday would be her pupils.

So, exhilaration, responsibility and uncertainty, she thought as she noticed the children she'd met in the summer sitting at their house table. Not dissimilar to how I felt teaching at an ordinary school, and wondered how the Weasley children, Hermione, and Harry would be feeling when they found out she would be teaching them.

But...the thought of the research entered her mind. I'm not here to teach, really. I'm here to work with Severus…and with Harry...

"Welcome all of you, to a new year at Hogwarts", said Dumbledore, and Cecilia's thoughts were interrupted by his authoritative voice.

"I am heartened to see the return of so many students, in light of the dreadful events that unfolded last year. And to our new first years, who have been sorted soundly into their new houses." There were a few cheers from the students, which were quickly silenced as Dumbledore glanced around the Hall.

"I am pleased to announce, Professor Hogarth Yellis has accepted the position of Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Yellis has worked for the Ministry of Magic for many years and I feel he is the best man for the job."

Professor Yellis, a tall, willowy man got to his feet, beaming at the students.

"In addition, Professor Snobbits who will teach the Ancient Runes option for our fourth and fifth years. As some of you may remember, Rudolf Snobbits was awarded the Merlin Prize for History and Ancient Artefacts in 1993."

Snobbits raised his hand, and Cecilia noticed one or two of the Ravenclaw house get to their feet, cheering madly. Dumbledore smiled, and waved his hands to indicate quiet. When there was quiet, Cecilia realised that all eyes were on her.

"In light of the recent events, namely the return of Lord Voldermort and the death of one of our own, Cedric Diggory," he paused momentarily, "I have implemented a change in programme. In an effort to build up better relations, understanding and empathy with the people with whom we share this great land and, in fact, this world, each and every one of you will be taking muggle studies this term."

The quiet of the Hall endured for a second longer then instantly imploded. Voices began to speak at once, in particular noticed Cecilia, the table to her right, where some of the students were even standing up in protest. She looked across at Snape, who gave her a withering look.

"SILENCE", bellowed Dumbledore. "There will be silence!" He surveyed the students before continuing.

"In the days where Voldermort was stronger, many years ago, he attempted to engender a universal hatred for muggles, as many of you already know. Most of you have at least one parent who is a muggle; for some of you, both parents. And I will tell you now, that muggles and wizards are alike in all but one way: muggles are not fortunate to possess as we do the significant gift, the art of magic.

"Long we have suffered through ignorance. And long have muggles been persecuted. This is why I have appointed a new muggle studies teacher." Dumbledore gestured over to Cecilia.

"Mrs Frobisher will endeavour to enlighten and educate you, in the stead of Madam Cadwallader, who as you know, retired though ill health last year."

I think I'll add "exorbitant responsibility" to that list then, thought Cecilia, as gaze of about 400 people fell on her. Then she thought, am I supposed to stand up? Say something?

Oh God, I'm sitting here in front of loads of wizards, in a magical castle, dressed in, I must say, quite flattering clothes, but let's face it you can't get them from Marks and Spencer...and a ceiling which seems to be an endless night sky...what do I do? I really don't know what to do...

She wanted to look at Snape again and try to quell her panic, but resisted resolutely and looked out at the sea of faces, smiling. Her spirits were raised when she saw the Weasley children: the twins, Ron and Ginny, also Hermione and Harry, all grinning at her and, buoyed on their encouragement, she smiled broadly.

"So she's a teacher, then?" asked Seamus, looking sharply at Ron. "I thought you said she was a mother."

"No, I said my mother was looking after her children," said Ron, beginning to go red at his own lie. "So she can be a teacher here."

"Not much to look at, is she?" continued Seamus. "Quite plain actually."

"She's very clever," said Harry, taking in Ron's strangled expression and, glancing over at Hermione, added, "not as clever as you, though."

The feast that followed lasted for the next 2 hours. While the children continued to speculate about Cecilia's unexpected appearance as their new teacher, Snape had made a point of leaving Cecilia and sitting next to Professor Yellis, engaging him in conversation about Defence, and she wondered, considering his attitude now how honest he had been when he's arrived yesterday morning in Dumbledore's study to meet her.

He'd agreed it was the only solution for her remaining at Hogwarts, and a perfect decoy. He didn't even add a proviso which Cecilia had taken to be his usual method of objection; he'd checked she had something suitable to wear for the feast, and she knew what time to be there.

She bade herself to forget it for now and turned her attention to the luscious lemon parfait in front of her (the memories of her recuperation loath to leave her).

"'ello, Cecilia, " boomed a voice next to her ear, and she nearly dropped the parfait she'd selected.

"Rubeus," said Cecilia and smiled as he sat down awkwardly into the chair next to her.

"Hagrid," he said. "'s only me Dad that ever called me Rubeus, it makes me feel like I'm five again. Well," he continued, "this is a turn-up for the book, ain't it? But then, you're prob'ly the best person round 'ere to be teachin' muggle studies."

"Listen, forget about Professor Snape," he added, taking in her expression. "'e's got a lot of things on when 'e's 'ere, not just bein' a teacher, And bein' the 'ead of Slytherin 'ouse, 'ow's it gorn'a look talking to the muggle studies teacher?" He nodded knowingly, and despite not having the foggiest what he was talking about, Cecilia nodded in agreement.

"So you knows what I mean, 'specially if certain parents of certain Slytherins found out," he added and, surveying the desserts before him, helped himself to a large jelly, in its entirety.

Hagrid then went on to describe the other different types of magical creatures he would be teaching the students this year and although she was interested, it was scientific after all, she couldn't help her mind straying to Snape's altogether tundral attitude.

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After the feast was over, Cecilia headed towards her room, thinking about Dumbledore's speech and, probably more importantly, what Hagrid had said. As she went, she passed students proceeding to their common rooms and was surprised when most of them cheerily acknowledged her.

She turned into the entrance of the teacher's quarters when someone called her name. It was Professor McGonagall.

"Mrs Frobisher, if I might discuss with you a few details," she said. "We can go to my office, it'll be much quieter."

"Now," she continued, once they had got to her office and Cecilia begun pay attention to what Professor McGonagall was saying rather than scrutinising too hard the books ranged row after row.

"I am very pleased to meet you at last," she held out her hand, and smiled. Cecilia shook it.

"You too, Professor McGonagall," said Cecilia.

"Minerva, please." She looked down and leafed through some parchments on her desk.

"Professor Dumbledore I am sure mentioned me; unfortunately I was unable to be at the Order meeting where you were accepted, congratulations my dear. And I was astounded and not to mention dismayed to hear about the circumstances surrounding your injuries..." she paused, glancing up at Cecilia, and allowing her meaning to sink in.

"I take it that your being here means that you have been able to put it behind you?"

"As much as I probably can, Minerva," replied Cecilia, trying very hard for the tone of her voice to convey finality to that topic.

"Well," said Professor McGonagall. "Albus, that is to say, Professor Dumbledore, asked me to draw up a suitable timetable for you. It was quite a challenge I have to say, we've never had a muggle at Hogwarts before, and I've never had to timetable every student." She handed a piece of paper to Cecilia, who scanned down Monday, noticing that McGonagall had added in her own neat handwriting a note that she should wear wizard robes.

"You've taught before, I understand?" Cecilia nodded.

"That's a blessing at any rate. I wasn't sure what Albus was thinking..." She noticed Cecilia's expression, "not you, Cecilia, but with the school. It will take a lot of work with some students, in particular those in Slytherin house to convince any of them of what you're saying. Which reminds me..."

Professor McGonagall got up.

"We should run through the discipline and sanctions here. I explained to you as we walked here about each house, and their respective merits. As you saw this evening, students are selected for each of the houses based on their personal qualities and so it is an honour for them to earn points in honour of their house."

"Teachers can use the points system as a reward, or as sanctions where they see fit, and they are automatically deducted. But it works only by magic so, alas, it will not work for you. I spoke to Albus about this and something he suggested was to create an environment where no magic was used at all, so anything you do in the course of your work is part of their learning."

Cecilia nodded; she'd planned on doing something similar, so she was relieved that it was already considered acceptable.

"Also, you will probably find it easier to fit in with our way of doing things. We call the students by their surnames, and you should expect they will call you Mrs Frobisher. Otherwise, there are no other constraints on your teaching."

"I'm not sure about sanctions, though," said Cecilia. "Do you issue detentions here?"

"Yes, if you believe the behaviour of the students warrants such a course of action, however we have introduced a system where the detention is served at the time which causes the most inconvenient for a student - instead of Quidditch practice, or visits to Hogsmeade, for example. A most effective deterrent."

"So if I were to write out a detention slip, like I would do as a teacher in a muggle school..."

"That will do nicely, and the guilty party will serve their detention with either myself or Professor Dumbledore." Cecilia breathed a sigh of relief, as Professor McGonagall got to her feet.

Do you have any questions?"

"I was wondering whether this, " Cecilia pulled out a schedule for her first lesson out of her inside robe pocket, "would be suitable for the first lesson. I thought if I got the students to leave their wands at the back of the room, or put out of sight, then they would get more out of the experience."

McGonagall looked over it critically, and nodded.

"Fine, fine. This is suitable for our students." She handed it back to Cecilia and nodded. "It looks like you have put a lot of effort into this my dear, in the same way that Albus described your approach to your work with Severus Snape." She smiled momentarily, and Cecilia thought she detected a small hint of approval.

"All right then, I think that is all. Should you need me for anything please do not hesitate."

"I won't, thank you," said Cecilia. She turned to go.

"I must say, you have taken to this remarkably, considering what you have already been through for us, Cecilia, and the timespan in which you had to deal with this." Cecilia stopped.

"Do you know much about science, Minerva?" Professor McGonagall shook her head.

"Science is no more a set of generally accepted rules about the way the world works. They can be changed with the emergence of new evidence and if scientists are true to their profession, their opinion changes in light of this." She paused.

"I can no more deny the existence of magic than I can the forces that Isaac Newton described, nor the Bohr model of an atom. But to make sense of them you have to relate everything else to them, before using them to make a better understanding of the world and use it to benefit people. This is why understanding science is important to everyone...to improve lives..."

Cecilia paused again, and she felt that, although she was explaining something quite complicated in her own way, Professor McGonagall appeared to understand.

"I just hope I can live up to what I've agreed to do. I am under no illusion it will be easy..." her voice trailed away.

"Not that I had any doubts when Albus told me about your appointment Cecilia, but from your attitude and determination, I cannot see your research with Professor Snape failing from lack of effort on your part. However, we are at war, and heaven knows what may happen." She paused, and smiled briefly. "But we do have you Cecilia, with your intellect and courage. You are our main advantage now."

Cecilia nodded. "Thank you, Minerva." Let's just hope I can live up to expectations.

"I'm sure you will," said Professor McGonagall to herself when Cecilia had left.

Cecilia made her way back to her room, considering her timetable. The week seemed quite full, and she wondered how she would be able to get any research done, considering she was teaching muggle studies for twelve hours that week.

So lost in though, Cecilia didn't see Snape just about to enter her room, and she bumped squarely into him.

"I see you have been speaking to Professor McGonagall," said Snape, as she looked up from the timetable. "It is a pity however that you haven't the wit to employ more than one sense at a time."

"Well, considering the way you treated me during the feast this evening, does it actually matter?" returned Cecilia, pushing past him and entering her room.

"Listen," he said, following her. "You're not going to get far in teaching wizard and witches if you are still scared of magic," he said, folding his arms. "And if you're not careful, that sharp tongue of yours will get you...all of us into serious trouble."

"I realise that," snapped Cecilia, throwing her first lesson plan towards him. "Minerva kindly went though the details. Do you not think I understand the prejudices of wizards? I've just about survived the result of one of them, and believe it or not, I do know how to be tactful."

Snape did not reply immediately; he scanned over the lesson plan, before handing it back to her.

"I have no idea whether this is any good or not, however what I do think is that you need to be careful, Cecilia. I still need my research partner after all is said and done." He sat down uninvited on her chair. "And after this," he gestured towards the timetable, "what else are you planning to teach?"

"If I'm honest, I've not got a clue. I was going to teach this, more or less, and see what they already knew, and take it from there. I'm in your world, and I haven't got a curriculum to follow." Snape said nothing.

"What do wizards already know about muggles, Severus? Does it all stem from ignorance? Is this, the muggle studies they receive here all they get?"

"It's not a question of understanding," said Snape eventually. "Muggles do not concern us. You are far different from any of us." He stopped.

And yet you stood there, down in your classroom less than a week ago with me, with the evidence before your very eyes which refuted what you've just said, thought Cecilia. Even Dumbledore pointed out that the majority of students at the school had at least one muggle parent. So how can you sit there and say that? She swallowed.

"Why did you ignore me at the feast?" asked Cecilia bluntly, sitting down on her bed.

"You must not be so familiar with me in front of the students," said Snape, getting to his feet. "When you smiled at me, all of the students saw that. I have a reputation to uphold, especially with my house, and the members of Slytherin will be the first to cause a disruption in your lesson, should the opportunity arise. Especially if they discover that you cannot do magic. This could jeopardise all the work we've done so far."

"I've already thought of that," said Cecilia quickly. "If it comes to it, I will tell them that I am a squib, who was brought up by muggles. Squibs are still technically wizards, aren't they?" Snape just stared at her.

"What?" she said, after a minute.

"Saying you're a squib, do you know what that means Cecilia?" He stood up and clasped his hands together looking down. Finally he looked at her.

"If you're a squib, it is quite...humiliating in the wizard world. It will be these students who will be behind the taunts, the ridicule..."

"What is it you're trying to tell me, Severus?"

"You know about the Death Eaters, the followers of the Dark Lord?" She nodded.

"Many of their children quite proudly uphold the prejudice you believe so abhorrent. Being a squib however, despite being of wizard parentage, is like having a disability and it is...very much a target for derision. Does that make it clearer, Cecilia, or would you like me to draw you a diagram?"

"I would," said Cecilia, getting to her feet. "But not about that. We still need to think about our research after all, that's why I'm here, not to teach." She pulled open her desk, and pulled out some books, the edges of the yellowing pages catching on the edge of the drawer.

"How far have you got with the cell nucleus?" she asked. "Don't worry if you haven't looked at it yet," she added hastily, glancing over to him quickly. "I expect you must have been busy because of the start of term. I've sorted out these. It builds on your knowledge and understanding of binary fission of cells." She handed the old books to him.

"Before we carry on with the research, with Harry, you need to know about chromosomes...genes...DNA and the method by which information is passed between cells as they replicate. If you like, we can go through some of it now." Snape shook his head.

"I have to get back to the Slytherin common room. Merlin only knows what chaos they will have caused in my absence. Nevertheless..." He looked down at what Cecilia had given to him. "You appear to have taken a considerable amount of trouble to sort these out for me, Cecilia."

Well, that's a turn up for the book, thought Cecilia. Severus Snape, expressing gratitude to the muggle-studies teacher. Whatever would the students of his house say, if they had heard?!

"If you have any trouble at all on Monday, your classroom is only two doors away from Professor Trelawney. I dare say she will be able to assist you if necessary." He made to go.

"Thanks Severus, but you don't need to worry; from what you've told me I expect there will be very little difference between teaching muggle fifteen-year olds and wizards." She smiled. "Which reminds me, I've got the fifth years on Monday last thing, do you want me to arrange with Harry about the research, or do you want to do it?"

"You do it, Cecilia. It'll be less suspicious. Tell him that the cover story will be that he has remedial muggle studies, because of his aunt and uncle." He smiled, malevolently.

"Fine," said Cecilia. "But I'll have to arrange it for later on in the week, to give you time to get through those." She knew it was a bit cruel, but she had taken the trouble to provide him with very much older editions of the books; despite it being Snape, she couldn't bring herself to hand over books designed for 12-and 13-year old muggles.

Snape looked between her and the books and in his hand and back at Cecilia, then strode out, without saying another word.

Monday, thought Cecilia, sitting back down on the bed cross-legged, her Emaness dress and robes gathering untidily round her, looking down at the lesson plan again. She knew it was lazy teaching, but so what? She didn't know of a single place where she could buy muggle-wizard theory books, and until some education research came out proving that this wasn't the right way about teaching wizards about science, she was going to take all the breaks she could get.

Her thoughts drifted on into the realms of research and she considered what they should do next. She needed to talk to Harry about his family, which she knew would be difficult, considering extraordinary circumstances he had lived through. And how she proceeded after that depended on whether Snape actually understood about biological science, and how much he could contribute to the research without clearing off halfway through, as was his usual routine.

So, she thought as she got up, taking off her now-work robes, and hanging them up carefully, if it does turn out that the increase in beta-amino acid is responsible for the mitochondrial function, this may mean the difference in energy metabolism...

Oblivious to the emerald-green head flickering intermittently in the fireplace behind her, Cecilia smoothed down the robes, vaguely admiring their versatility and quality, and making a mental note to talk to Tonks about going back to Diagonalley.

Lost in thought about primary and secondary energy transition, she selected some fresh elf-laundered towels (Dobby again) and threw the rest of her clothes idly on the floor behind her as she made her way through the bathroom door for a lovely hot soak.

Sirius's thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the study door. Pulling his head quickly out of the fireplace, he turned to see Remus standing in the doorway, holding a Black Family Tome. He got to his feet.

"Well, I think I've finally found Raymond Lully," said Remus, smiling at the open page in the book as he strode in.

"Not my old books, please Remus. I thought I'd got rid of them anyway." Sirius walked over to his father's armchair and slumped into it.

"I think that Kreacher managed to save one or two before passed away, " said Remus, glancing over the text again. "I know you couldn't stand him Sirius, but he was loyal to your family. And lucky he did save these, because now we can help Cecilia with her Order work." Sirius gave a snort.

"You remember," said Remus, knowing his friend knew full well what he was talking about. "Tonks said Cecilia was looking for information on him. Who'd have thought he'd be part of your family? A distant relative, though."

"And you think this will help, do you Remus?" said Sirius, sceptically. "A bit of information about some relation of mine, you think that will help her, and Harry? She didn't even want to speak to me before she left...with _Snivellus_." There was bitterness in his voice. "What makes you think she will listen now?"

"Well, this is something you can help with," said Remus, trying to encourage Sirius to see reason. "You're always complaining you can't do enough for the Order. And before you say it, Mr Snuffles accompanying me once a month is danger in itself, but I am sure this would make you feel like you have more of a purpose." Remus sat down in another armchair, across from his friend.

"Why don't you owl her? Or better yet, owl Harry and ask him to pass on the message? Then that'll at least put his mind at rest." He passed Sirius the Tome, who took it carefully, as if handling something volatile. He looked across at Remus.

"You do it, Moony," sighed Sirius. "She won't want to hear from me." He glanced across at his friend. "You got on well with her..."

"Well, Tonks did say she wanted to put the past behind her and make a fresh start," said Remus, patently ignoring Sirius's last comment.

"When did she say that?" Sirius looked quickly up at his friend.

"The day before yesterday when your headstrong cousin encouraged her out for drink and they spent all night at the Three Broomsticks, that's when," said Remus, grinning knowingly.

"What, when we were..."

"Yes," said Remus. "But Snape wasn't very pleased with her leaving the castle by all accounts, gave her a good dressing down." Sirius raised one eyebrow thoughtfully. "Tonks said she stood up for herself, though."

Just about typical of Snivellus, like she's his pet, thought Sirius grimly, and the scenes he had witnessed that evening crystallised in his mind: of Cecilia in her wizard robes pacing around nervously before the feast; of Snape entering her room and looking through her belongings, her clothes and bag before rifling through her desk drawers and removing a piece of parchment; of him discussing the teaching of Slytherin students with her; of Cecilia walking round her room that morning practicing what she was going to say to her first class on Monday, pausing every so often to run her hands through her long hair when she made a mistake...the fleeting glimpses of her body silhouetted by the light from the bathroom...

"I'll do it then," said Remus finally, looking despairingly at his friend, "but look, at least you're helping by talking to Dumbledore...I presume that is who you were talking to by Floo?" Sirius nodded.

"Well, I'll leave you to it." Remus got up. "At least you've got some interest in something..." Sirius nodded in agreement as Remus turned, nodding towards the Tome before leaving. Sirius looked down at the page in his family's Tome, scanning the entry of Raymond Lully.

...Cecilia Frobisher, thought Sirius as he made his way towards the fireplace again...yes...she was definitely interesting...

88888888

Cecilia yawned as she turned over the page of "Hogwarts – A History". She'd read the book through three times since Saturday night, but every time she went through it she had found something new. Cecilia had been in the muggle studies classroom since 5.30 that morning and, having found a modicum of panic irrationally rising from her stomach, had eventually found that reading was calming her nerves. In an hour, twenty first-year students would be before her, and after that? She hadn't planned any further...

The early morning sunlight glinted off the gold leaf decoration as she read, and her mind flicked back to science as she considered the electron promotion that was taking place within the atoms.

It was marvellous, even to her, someone who now looked at science from the point of view of the teacher rather than the student, the phenomenon, then she wondered whether she was just leading herself a merry dance in believing she would actually be able to educate young wizards. Especially as, with the exception of the children at Grimmauld Place, she had not met any of the students she was to teach.

Not that they weren't able to learn; it would be arrogant of her to believe that, despite her ignoble temptation to do so considering their less than fair judgement of muggles. It was just...if her mind boggled when the wonders of science caught her off-guard, would she have the skill to be able to teach children whose previous teacher all but believed muggles to be a fable?

Cecilia was soberly aware of the fact she was starting from almost the furthest you could get from understanding about muggles. From the books she had in her possession it was as if wizards and muggles lived on separate planets, rather than amongst one another.

The books in question Cecilia had found had belonged Delilah Cadwallader and had been testimony to this. Previously, she had assumed that the basis from which she would be teaching was similar to her own outlook on her world. Why had she been so naïve?

She had been down in the kitchen in the early hours of Sunday morning helping Dobby and the other house elves who was still washing up from the feast, and he had accompanied her back to the classroom. The castle was much quieter now, much closer to what Cecilia had grown accustomed to over the many weeks she had worked here more or less on her own. The books had been let outside the classroom when they had for there and when she had finally been able to get a word in edgeways over Dobby's evident excitement at the presence of Harry Potter in Hogwarts again, she had been able to ascertain their prior ownership.

The books themselves both astonished and shocked her. They appeared to be written as a living encyclopaedia, as if they were evolving from moment to moment: she was in awe momentarily when, on a page about "The Government of Britain" the name of the current Foreign Secretary had disappeared before her eyes and a new name appeared in its place, along with a neat inscription of Sunday's date and the time.

But what shocked her was, as accurate as the books were, they were written as if the world they were describing did not exist, like a story or a fantasy. One chapter even summed up the Second World War in three sentences, as if it were no more than a playground tussle.

How on earth would the students, students she would have to teach, believe in these events when they had been described so curtly in the standard literature? Maybe Snape was right. Maybe the affairs muggles really didn't concern wizards.

She walked back towards the desk – her desk she supposed from today and, glancing at her watch and realising that she was half an hour from teaching, reached over for "Hogwarts – A History". A small twinge of pain shot down of her left-hand side and withdrew her hand quickly, and massaged her side. She sat back on her chair.

It was pure luck that she had not absorbed the Veritaserum. She had been in the hospital wing most of yesterday afternoon, and talked to Poppy again about her grandfather and her near miss, in between the calls on the nurse's time in treating several first years' prank- and broom-related injuries.

Even Poppy had remarked on the fortune, and Cecilia had used it as ammunition when rejecting Pompop's potion, and had hurriedly diverted the witch's attention to her grandfather's notes again, about which Poppy waxed lyrical for a good half an hour. She even offered to speak to Professor Snobbits about the parchment they found, lodged at the back of her cupboard, which was covered in sigils and hieroglyphics.

Well the affairs of wizards certainly concerned muggles, she thought grimly, getting up, and massaging her side. Sirius Black had made that perfectly plain. She collected some parchment from on her desk and began to lay it out on the desks in the room.

And after today, she decided firmly, the world of muggles was most certainly going to concern wizards...

88888888

Half past two and the day was not going as Cecilia had imagined. Her third class of the day, a motley crew of sixth years, had just left and she sat on the edge of her desk and surveyed the room.

It could have gone better, she thought, her eye drawn to the two-inch crack and her mind scrolled back to the incident that had caused it. Cecilia reminded herself that, as it had been the result of Fred Weasley demonstrating the opening of a pickled onion jar the wizard way, things could have gone a lot worse.

Now she had a blessed twenty minutes of peace and quiet before her fifth year class, consisting of Ron, Hermione and not to mention Harry, arrived.

What had amazed her most was, not the ease in which her presence was accepted by the students; even those in the Slytherin house had not caused a fuss when she had asked for wands to be laid at the back of the room.

No, she thought as she laid out the parchment. Beginner's luck: the honeymoon period. Give it time and it will come unstuck…

Just then her thoughts were disturbed by knocking at the door. Hermione Granger pushed it open, and she walked determinedly towards Cecilia. Cecilia smiled at her.

"Hermione," she began, "the lesson doesn't start for another ten minutes…."

"It's not that, Mrs Frobisher, it's the trouble outside," she replied urgently, looking back towards the open door. "I tried to stop them, but there were too much…"

Cecilia dropped the parchment and headed towards the open classroom door, and looked down the corridor. A group of students were stood round what appeared to be a large clouds of smoke, issuing from a cauldron. One or two of them giggled as Cecilia watched one of the clouds form into an image of herself, holding a drooping wand with the words "Muggle Studies" shimmering in silver. She surveyed the students sternly.

"Who is responsible for this?" She looked from one to other of the faces around the cauldron, passing Ginny, the Weasley twins, Ron, Harry… There was no answer.

"I will give the student or students who were responsible for this one, and I repeat one chance to come forward, otherwise the consequences will be severe."

"What will you do, curse us with your muggle wand?" Giggles emanated from the vicinity of the comment, but Cecilia could not work out which student had said it.

"Draco Malfoy," she heard Hermione, who was standing next to her, mutter under her breath an emboldened, she continued.

"All fifth years that have muggle studies with me kindly take their seats in the classroom otherwise proceed to your next lesson." She glanced at the cauldron again as students hurried hither and thither, then added, "Would Mr Malfoy kindly make his presence known?"

Quick as a flash, the eyes of the fifth years fixed on a student near the back of the throng heading into the classroom, a tall boy with snow-white hair and an ugly scowl.

"In you go, in you go," she added, encouraging the fifth years into the classroom, "please leave your wands at the back of the room and begin to answer the question on the board in front of you."

"Mr Malfoy, a word," she said calmly, as the blonde-haired boy wearing the Slytherin house badge on his robes attempted to enter. A couple of other students dithered at the door, but Draco shook his head and they entered as well.

"Could you please explain the comment I clearly heard you make just now?" said Cecilia when the fifth years had gone in.

"It wasn't me," he said, giving her a filthy look. "I don't know who put the cauldron there."

"I am not going to debate with you Mr Malfoy, however if you do not wish to explain yourself to me now, I expect Professor McGonagall would be more than happy to listen to you in detention? I am sure she would have no trouble getting to the bottom of this."

"Is there a problem, Mrs Frobisher?" Cecilia turned, and the boy's defiant expression formed into a smirk.

"Professor Snape," she said, almost breathing a sigh of relief. "I was just attempting to ascertain the culprit of a prank; however Mr Malfoy does not wish to explain his actions." She stared back, trying not to smile. "How do you suggest I deal with him?"

"Leave it to me," said Snape, flashing a look at Draco. "Rest assured Mrs Frobisher, he will be suitably punished." She looked back at Draco, who was still smirking.

"In that case," said Cecilia, moving towards the classroom, "I will continue with today's lesson." She gestured firmly towards the door. Draco looked back at Snape whose eyes glinted with light and, smirking towards Cecilia again, entered the classroom.

"Mrs Frobisher, before you go," said Snape, and Cecilia paused.

"Yes?"

"I do not wish you to discipline any of the students in my house. It is under a significant amount of duress that they are present at Muggle Studies. You should be grateful that they attend at all."

"Professor Snape, I am sure you're not suggesting that I, as a new teacher to the school, would be party to any unfair treatment of any students in the school? I am merely embracing the ethos of the school, following the sanctions system in place…"

"Mrs Frobisher…" he looked over her shoulder, and Cecilia glanced back: the low mumbling she had heard behind her was indeed as she suspected. The whole class of fifth years whom she was about to teach was crowded haphazardly around the window and the door.

"Mrs Frobisher," he repeated icily, looking back at her. "You will allow any student of the Slytherin house due leave of the lesson should they so wish."

Are you trying to tell me what to do, Severus thought Cecilia. Because this is my class, and what goes on inside it is up to me…

"Thank you kindly for your assistance, Professor Snape. I expect you will report to me in due course the nature of the punishment Mr Malfoy will receive. Now I will continue with my class, we are already late as it is." Cecilia turned, leaving Snape looking after her wordlessly.

"Now," said Cecilia, walking to the front of the class. "Settle down, and please..." she looked round the classroom as the students hurriedly returned to their places, "place your wands over there on the table."

"Why?" came a voice from the front over the low-level murmuring. Cecilia walked towards the student near the front. "Why do we need to put our wands down?"

"The reason..." She raised her eyebrows.

"Dean Thomas..."

"The reason, Mr Thomas, is that this is a muggle studies lesson, and as such, no magic will be performed, so you won't need them. Now," Cecilia looked around the room; most of the students were sitting down; Harry and Ron were sitting right at the front, grinning at her. She pointed towards the question she had written on the blackboard.

"Now, can anyone tell me the answer they wrote?" Cecilia looked around expectantly as the students looked between them. One or two raised their hands.

"Yes...Mr Weasley?" Ron looked across at Harry, before glancing at her.

"I, er, that is to say...I didn't write anything down..."

"But you have an answer?"

"Well, yes..." he glanced across at Hermione. "I think a muggle is someone who is... brave."

"OK," said Cecilia, walking over to the question. She drew a circle round the question and wrote "bravery" next to it.

"Bravery. Why do you say that?" She looked at Ron, who had gone red.

"Because...a muggle I know was brave recently..." Harry nudged him, and one or two of the students tittered at his apparent discomfort.

"Thank you, Mr Weasley, anyone else? Yes, I'm sorry, I don't know your name..."

"Neville Longbottom."

"Yes, Mr Longbottom?"

"I wrote down, 'a muggle is someone who is quite like a wizard, but cannot do magic'". Neville looked earnestly at her.

"Good, Mr Longbottom, good." Cecilia smiled and nodded. "Does anyone else agree?" A couple of students raised their hands and she wrote "magic" on the board and scored a line through it.

"Anything else?"

"It takes them ages to do things" shouted someone.

"Confusing!" added someone else.

"Resourceful!"

"All right," said Cecilia, adding the words. "One at a time, please! Anyone else?"

"Muggles are stupid!" came a voice from the back. The room that was buoyant with energy just now went quiet almost instantly, and heads turned to look at Draco Malfoy.

A student adjacent to him shouted, "How dare you..." and Seamus Finnigan stood up beginning to move towards him.

"Now now, sit yourselves down. Mr Malfoy has the right to his say. Do you have anything to justify what you say, Mr Malfoy?" She looked at Draco in anticipation.

"Justify, Mrs Frobisher?" Draco said, getting to his feet and folding his arms, "I don't need to justify it. It is just as he says" he pointed at Neville. "Muggles cannot do magic, talentless prehensile oafs that they are, so they must be stupid."

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," said Cecilia calmly, adding "stupidity" and surveyed the classroom. "Anyone else agree?" The students looked at one another. A pretty girl, near the back raised her hand, and most of the class stared at her.

"Padma Patil. A bit of a nuisance, really. I mean, muggles aren't stupid, but they do some strange things."

"Can you give me some examples, Miss Patil?"

"Well, sometimes they use things in the kitchen. I saw my grandmother using a knife herself to chop vegetables once or twice." She looked at the girl next to her.

"Yes," agreed the girl. "And she used to do other odd things, like pushing something round the floors on the carpets. We never understood why." Cecilia smiled as the class began chatting amongst themselves

"Right, OK then," said Cecilia above the growing chattering. "We have some ideas about muggles. Now, does anyone know why I asked you all this question?"

"Because we're in muggle studies" shouted someone.

"Because muggles are stupid!" shouted a plump, round-faced boy sitting next to Draco. The students sitting next to him smirked and nudged one another.

"One at a time," said Cecilia, "Please, raise your hands. Miss Granger?"

"You asked us the question Mrs Frobisher because you wanted to know what our preconceptions about muggles are."

"Right, Miss Granger. Five points to your house..."

"...Gryffindor..."

"...Gryffindor," Cecilia repeated and took out a book, writing down Hermione's name and Gryffindor. She began to pace down one side of the classroom, noticing a couple of students glance between herself and notebook and continued.

"What we have on the board there are your thoughts about muggles. You didn't know what I was going to ask you." And from what I can see your last teacher didn't really do much to dispel your ideas, she added to herself.

"To some extent, all of those answers are correct. Some muggles are brave, some are resourceful, and some are stupid. Some push things round their carpets...does anyone know why Miss Patil's grandmother would have been doing that, by the way? Mr Potter?..." Harry lowered his arm.

"To clean the carpets. It's a vacuum cleaner."

"...exactly so," Cecilia continued, nodding towards Harry, walking towards the back of the classroom. "A vacuum cleaner cleans the carpets. Why do you think she would use it? Miss...?"

"...Hannah Abbott. Because Padma and Pavarti's grandmother is a muggle and so she can't do magic." Cecilia looked over at the girls. They nodded.

"Today, I am going to make you a promise. And its going to involve the definition Mr Longbottom gave to us earlier." She paced past the Slytherin students at the back, who stopped muttering amongst themselves and looked at her defiantly.

"At the end of these lessons, I am going to show you that those definitions you gave, all of them, are true. And what is going to be central to our understanding is something Professor Dumbledore told you all at the feast." She walked up the other side of the classroom, pausing at the blackboard.

"The only difference between muggles and wizards is...anyone?" Cecilia gestured towards another student. 

"Justin Finch-Fletchley" said the dark-haired boy sitting to the left of Hermione. "Dumbledore said that the only difference was that muggles couldn't do magic and we can."

"Excellent, Mr Finch-Fletchley. It is heartening to know that people were listening." She stood at the front of the class again. "The only difference between muggles and wizards is that wizards...yourselves sitting there...you can perform magic. Other than that, muggles are no different to you."

"Rubbish!" Some students were out of their seats. "That's ridiculous." "This lesson is a waste of time." "Muggles are stupid idiots." The noise level began to rise amidst the shouting.

"Settle down!" Cecilia said, raising her voice but it was lost in the mayhem as she headed to the back of the room.

"I'm not listening to this nonsense!" Draco was also out of his seat, and heading towards the pile of wands on the back table, making a grab for his own. The others fell to the floor, one or two releasing sparks and flashes as they impacted the floor, making her jump.

"I've had enough!" he shouted and made for the door. Cecilia stepped in front of him.

"I would advise you to sit down, Mr Malfoy," she said firmly.

"Or what?" he replied insolently. Cecilia felt her heart sink as Draco raised his wand towards her face. Hermione put her hands to her mouth and gasped.

So this was the moment, was it? The untimely end of her ignoble career... Cecilia swallowed and with all the willpower she could muster steeled herself to regain control of the situation.

"I get the impression that you don't particularly want to learn muggle studies?" Draco's expression changed to confusion. Cecilia turned to address the rest of the class.

"Is there anyone else who does not wish to be here?" The students looked at one another, and one or two other students, Slytherin House she noticed, raised their hands.

"Then this is one and only time that you have my permission to leave. You will report to Professor Snape and he will find alternative work for you to do. Mr Malfoy," she turned to Draco, who was still pointing his wand at her, "you will kindly lower your wand."

If you could have bottled absolute silence, it would have consisted of that moment. The whole room was still, the students looking between her and Draco. Just as Cecilia thought she couldn't stand the tension any more, Draco dropped his arm and, with a sneer, stepped past her and marching out of the classroom. A couple of other boys who had been sitting next to him got up, following close behind.

"Anyone else?" She surveyed the class. Two more students got up and, with a quick glance in her direction, scuttled off. Most of the students however lowered their gaze, shaking their heads as they did so.

"Right," she said brightly. "Let's continue, shall we?"

Whether in response to the moment of drama or if the young witches and wizards were actually interested in her lesson, Cecilia wasn't entirely sure, but the rest of the lesson went surprisingly smoothly and the atmosphere was upbeat.

She had set up some props and asked for volunteers. Some of them were confused by the calculator she showed them. The pickled onion jar posed a problem for Ernie Macmillan, who said it felt strange to try and open it by hand, and Cecilia extended the activity to more activities it was clear that some students were far more capable than others.

This developed into a lively discussion about what muggles did compared to wizards in given situations and the reason why some found it easy was because they had lived at home with muggle parents until they had got to Hogwarts. She then allowed them to work in pairs and they came up with other situations that muggle-born wizards would find easier than other wizards, and the reasons why.

Cecilia then went through the rationale, summing up the main underlying cause. She had been pretty surprised with herself when she had some up with the reasoning the previous night and began to explain that in order to open the jar, energy was needed, either from muscles, which was provided through food, or by magic where somehow an energy transfer was taking place.

Hermione said she thought it must be channelled through wands because each wand was suited to its owner, and Cecilia made a mental note to add this to her hypothesis.

She concluded the lesson by briefly outlining what science was and set homework for them to find out about one famous muggle about whom, in a fortnight, they would make a presentation.

"Mrs Frobisher, do you mind if I ask you a question" said Hermione at the end of the lesson, as the students filed out.

"Not at all, Hermione,"

"If it's like you say, and everyone needs energy, how do wizards get it, and pass it on? I mean, we use spells, but you use muscular energy..." Cecilia looked up briefly.

"Hermione," she glanced up and beckoned Ron and Harry, who were waiting by the door for Hermione, to come forward.

"I am sure I should not be talking so informally to all of you but I need to make this clear," she lowered her voice. "You must have guessed, all three of you, the reason I am at Hogwarts." She glanced at Harry, and they nodded.

"I was asked by Dumbledore to teach you what I know about muggles, as a cover for the Order work I am doing with Professor Snape and with you, Harry. However there could be grave consequences should any students discover I am a muggle, not least to myself." She smiled at Hermione and continued.

"But I am glad you are showing an interest; I do stand by what I say. Though this may be a cover, I believe in what I am teaching you all. However I do not have all the answers. I did not in fact know until you mentioned it Hermione, that all wands were unique to their owners, and sadly I do not know, as yet, how wizard energy is transferred in spells. I'm working on it, though."

"Will you tell us when you do find out?" asked Hermione earnestly.

"Certainly I will. Now," she turned to Harry, "we need to set a regular time for a meeting. I am not sure what Professor Dumbledore has already discussed with you."

"When do you need to see me, Professor?" asked Harry. "Because I have Quidditch practice most evenings."

"Do you have a spare five minutes now? Perhaps we can look at your timetable?" She turned to Hermione and Ron. "I am entirely sure that Harry will tell you everything in any case," Harry looked across at Ron and raised his eyebrows, "but considering the circumstances I would ask you to wait outside."

"I have Tuesday evenings free," said Harry, when Hermione and Ron had left. He held out his timetable for Cecilia to see. "But I'm not sure how long that will be for, because we'll have so much work to do for our OWLs..."

"I'll be straight with you, Harry," said Cecilia, looking at him. "The last thing I want is to disrupt your work, however from the point of view of the research we are doing you are central to it and any time you can spare will be valuable. What has Professor Dumbledore already said to you?"

"He told me to cooperate with you as much as possible", said Harry, looking back. "He said you would explain it all..." Oh dear, thought Cecilia.

"There's no easy way of saying this Harry," she said slowly, sitting down on the chair behind her desk and exhaled (the pain, her constant companion choosing, now to bother her).

"The key to the research is entirely you. Whatever it was of you that stopped Voldermort from killing you when he killed your parents. The situation that has no doubt haunted you for most of your life." Harry nodded wearily.

"We do not know as yet where the research will take us and as such the questions I may need to ask you might feel to be very personal, or painful." She paused, and looked down briefly. "No-one has ever done this type of work before, not even between muggles and wizards to my knowledge, which is why anything you can tell me, however mundane, could be crucial."

"But what are you doing, Mrs Frobisher? What do muggles know that wizards don't?"

"We are attempting to unravel the differences, the underlying cause from the point of view of muggle science." She paused.

"When Professor Dumbledore told me that I needed to investigate the physical effects of love, I almost laughed. But you are standing there, living proof that there must be a scientific explanation for it." Harry shifted uncomfortably, but nodded.

"At Grimmauld Place in the summer, when we were all having tea the once Harry, I made a very crude attempt at explaining what science is. Do you remember what you said to me?"

"I said that science was a certain way of looking at things," said Harry. "I remember, Mrs Frobisher."

"I understand you were at a muggle school before you came to Hogwarts?" He nodded. "So you have some knowledge of science?"

"We did nature at school, and some things about animals. Oh, and the teacher mentioned a scientist, Steven Hawking...that's about all I remember." Harry sighed. "To be honest, I didn't pay much attention at Juniors."

"Science is a very powerful tool. I will be frank with you Harry. We are to create a weapon to use against Voldermort, to stop him once and for all from harming more of us, wizards and muggles. The nature of the weapon we don't know yet, though it will probably be a potion of some kind. Where Voldermort chooses to belittle muggles and our ways, he loses sight of our valuable strengths, our knowledge and understanding of the world around us – science – being one of them. Therefore I am sure you can understand why what we discuss is strictly confidential and that my true identity is not revealed." She looked at Harry, and he nodded slowly.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, Mrs Frobisher. Am I to be working just with you, or with you and Professor Snape?"

"Be honest with me Harry, do you get on with Professor Snape?" Harry gave her a look and Cecilia nodded.

"I see," she said, smiling slightly. "It will be with both of us, I am afraid. I have gathered from his character that he would probably disapprove of me discussing the research as I have done this afternoon. But I couldn't in all honesty carry this work out if you were not aware of the full facts, nor if you were less than happy to participate."

It was true; despite the way she had been recruited, it was almost certain that Harry had been given little choice in assisting. Despite her magical shortcomings she always had her professional integrity.

"What happens if I can't tell you something, or I can't do something?" asked Harry. "I do want to help Mrs Frobisher...despite what Sirius did." And there it was, she thought, what was concerning Harry amongst other things.

"He did what he thought was in your best interests, Harry. When it comes to those we love, those bonds are the strongest. So," she brightened. "Tomorrow I would like you to tell me about your family and your life before you became a wizard. Whatever you can remember, however commonplace, will help my understanding of all of this." She got up, trying to hide the pain that had grown progressively worse as they had talked, and Harry stood up too.

"I am happy to help, Mrs Frobisher, I haven't thought about much else since Dumbledore spoke to me last week. Its like you said, I've lived with this all my life. Unbelievable things have happened to me...dreadful...extraordinary...dangerous things. All I've ever wanted is to be normal, to have a normal life and if Voldermort is defeated, I might be able to."

As he spoke, it looked like a weight had lifted, ever so slightly from his shoulders and Cecilia felt a surge of sympathy for this fifteen year old boy, who had been through so much.

"I've kept you far too long," she said, nodding towards the faces of Ron and Hermione, looking through the glass of the classroom door and she beckoned to them. Harry smiled briefly at them.

"Come on Harry," said Hermione impatiently, as they opened the door. "We've got to hurry else there won't be any half-decent books left in the library!"

"Bloody hell, Hermione," moaned Ron. "You're the only person I know who would ever say that."

88888888

"Cecilia..."

Cecilia looked up from her notebook and looked around before looking down again and rereading the sentence she had written. It was probably the stress of her second day of teaching wizards, she thought and her mind recalled the two-inch gash in the granite classroom wall after Fred Weasley had inadvertently let go of the pickled onion jar mid-open.

"Cecilia."

She swung her legs over the bottom of her bed, and looked round.

"Hello?"

"Down here," came the voice, and her eye drifted to the chair she had put in front of the fireplace. She had put it there on Saturday night because the green splutterings had been keeping her awake and she'd left it there because it had felt reassuring somehow.

"Remus?" she exclaimed as she bent down between the chair and addressed his fiery head. "Remus, gosh!"

"How are you, Cecilia? Dumbledore told us about you teaching at Hogwarts."

"Oh, fine," she said, her stomach filling inexplicably with butterflies. "This is a surprise," she added uncertainly.

"Heard about your run-in with Snape," chuckled Remus. "Not quite seeing the funny side of you and Tonks going out?"

"Not as such," said Cecilia, laughing. "Maybe he felt a bit left out!" It was amazing she thought. They had parted on less than friendly terms, but within seconds he had managed to put her at ease.

"So how are you really?" said Remus, a serious tone entering his voice. "This is far from what you signed up for."

"It's had its moments," said Cecilia. "The main thing that's keeping me going is the link to my world, the muggle world, however superficial. Research is a bit slow, though. How's everything at Grimmauld Place? I assume you're still there. How's Tonks?"

"I haven't seen much of her these last few days. She's been at the ministry since she left you last Friday. Everything's quite quiet. Are you well?"

"I am fine, Remus, honestly. A few twinges here and there, thank you for asking. How's Sirius?"

"Oh, er, yes, he's...Sirius. Moping a bit since Harry left for Hogwarts. We've actually found something important, Cecilia. For your work. Raymond Lully is actually one of Sirius's ancestors. Distantly related, as it turned out."

"Really?" She shuffled closer to the fire. "I couldn't find anything out here, there's nothing in any of the books in the library. Who was he?"

"We're not entirely sure, but it looks like he worked undercover with muggles, during the 1950s. The details are a bit sketchy, but I've owled you what we found."

"Oh, thank you," she said eagerly, mentally speculating about this mysterious character.

"Like I say, it's not much..."

"I'm sure it will really help..." She swallowed. "I really didn't thank you properly Remus. Professor Dumbledore said you waited with me when I was unconscious..." There was a pause.

"You're helping," said Remus, "doing everything you can for us. There are few things nobler than selflessness, Cecilia." She laughed.

"It's far from that, Remus. What chance do muggles get to investigate all this? It's a real wonder no-one's done this before."

"Well, you really should take care," said Remus carefully. "I know you are working with Snape, Cecilia, but believe me, there are many things that could still cause you harm, things you may deem innocuous...and should things get difficult I am not entirely convinced your wellbeing will be uppermost in his mind." He paused. "Things aren't like what they are in the muggle world..."

"I am well aware of that, Remus," she said carefully. "But the nature of this work, it does involve awkward questions. But I trust Severus, he's being more than helpful. I mean, where would_ I_ be able to get wizard blood samples from?" She smiled. Thank you for caring...

"And everything is all right between you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Remus swallowed. "From what you said before, when he attacked you when he was angry..."

"That was nothing," said Cecilia. "I've been through worse..." she immediately regretted saying the last bit; it wasn't as if Remus wasn't patently aware of Sirius's actions.

"Look," he said after a brief pause. "I've got to go, I just wanted to tell you personally about Lully."

"Thank you, really." She swallowed. "It was...good to see you, Remus." The fire dimmed.

Really good, she thought, staring into the emptiness.

88888888

"How dare you speak to me like that in front of the students. Especially those in my house!" Snape had come to the muggle studies classroom twenty minutes before their meeting with Harry.

He had ignored her requests to leave her to prepare and during his diatribe her exhaustion bought on from teaching another four lessons that day had morphed into half-hearted defence.

"On your first day...the students just turned up, did you think about how that makes me look? If you had just let me take them at the start of the lesson, but no, Mrs Frobisher had a point to prove."

"Listen," Cecilia interrupted, trying to look at him as he paced around her room. "I did what I was supposed to do. Professor Dumbledore wanted me to teach all the students. But when Draco Malfoy pointed his wand in my face my choices were limited. I didn't particularly want to end up as a frog..."

"What?" Snape turned quickly. "And you talk about muggle prejudice. What, pray, provoked the outburst?"

"Absolutely nothing. The other students were engaged in the lesson. Honestly!" she exclaimed when she saw his sceptical expression. "Admittedly asking the students to put their wands down may have unsettled them..."

"You did _what_!?" He stopped pacing, and bent towards Cecilia. "You asked them to put their wands down?" He threw down her copy of "Magic and Muggles", glaring at it.

"You empty-headed fool..."

"Why? None of the students would need them. And besides, I thought it would be safer."

"You should never, ever ask a wizard to put down his wand. It's dishonourable. Demeaning. No wonder Draco wanted to go to Dumbledore; it took me a lot of effort to dissuade him."

"No-one's ever told me that before," said Cecilia, defiantly. "How was I to know?" Snape snorted and folded his arms.

"We can't talk about this now, Harry will be with us any minute," she continued. " Look, as far as I'm concerned, they don't have to come back, OK. Now, listen," She picked the book up off the floor before continuing.

"How far have you got with the books I gave you?" She knew it was provocative, but she was past caring. The teaching was taking it out of her, and she needed Snape to refocus on the research.

"I may just have been able to get round to it had you not sent students to me for work," he said icily. "However I am aware that we need to proceed with this. Is there anything I can do?"

It was amazing, thought Cecilia, how his mood could change when she began to talk about work. She had noticed when she spoke logically to him; he changed and became more objective.

"The work we did Severus, with our blood. I've given it a lot of thought and I think the next step is in an analysis of different types." She looked at him calmly, trying to pace her excited mind in order to explain the theory she had formulated the previous night.

"You see, when I taught the lesson yesterday, Hermione asked me where the energy for spells comes from. Our cells reproduced in the same way under the microscope, but what happens to the blood when you, wizards I mean, perform spells? Is there a difference? And is it different for the blood types of wizards, those you call half-blood and muggle born? And what about squibs?" Snape nodded.

"And I assume you require me to perform spells when I get hold of the samples?"

"Yes, that's it. I left the microscope setup at the back of your classroom under a cloak. The lens is still in focus, so all you will need to do is light the lamp manually."

"It will be done," said Snape, flicking up the corners of his mouth slightly. "Now, I assume you have informed Potter of what is expected of him?"

"I told him he needed to discuss with me the details of his life, his background. I need to know how he felt when he became a wizard, and before, when he lived with his family. Anyway, there's absolutely no reason to begin the practical work until you understand what I asked you to study because I need to be able to discuss it with you."

"Then you won't mind if I leave you to it? Much as I would care for an hour of listening to Potter's tragic life, I can think of much better things to do with my time."

"Be my guest," she replied coolly as he walked towards the door. Maybe she would get a bit more of a quality interview without the inevitable interruptions; Harry may be more honest with just her.

"Potter," intoned Snape frostily, as Harry stepped into the classroom. "Mrs Frobisher will be conducting an interview with you this evening. Try not to bore her to death, will you?"

88888888

At the same time that Cecilia was listening empathetically to Harry and noting down aspects of his life, a conversation of an entirely different tone was taking place in Grimmauld Place.

Dumbledore held his hand to his forehead as the volume and causticity of the conversation began to escalate.

"It is the least you can do, Black, considering what you put her through. I am, of course making allowances for the fact that an infinitesimal amount of loyalty has penetrated the abnormally thick head you have on your shoulders."

"And what about you, Snivellus, " he grinned as he saw Snape rise, "oh but I expect you haven't told her yet that you are a half blood yourself. Want to pass off my blood as your own? Because you've only been trying to do that all your life..."

"Gentlemen, please," Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus, what exactly does Mrs Frobisher need the samples for? I am taking for granted that she understands the contentious nature of her request."

"Not as such, Professor," said Snape, darting a look at Sirius. "The samples contain what I understand to be a pattern which she can see with her instruments. What with her teaching, and my having to minimise the damage she may have caused by trying to discipline students from Slytherin house, we have barely had time to discuss it. Nevertheless, time is short, and I feel it is wise to accede to her request."

"But wizard blood!" exclaimed Sirius. "I mean, look what happened to Harry in the summer with You-Know-Who." He stood up, appealing to Dumbledore as he spoke. "Suppose the samples got into the wrong hands?" He looked sideways at Snape, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

"May I interrupt, Professor Dumbledore?" Mr Weasley stepped between the two wizards. "Speaking as a member of the Order, perhaps I can make a suggestion? We have trusted Cecilia thus far; we invited her to join the Order of the Phoenix and she has demonstrated her loyalty to us and the Order many times over, despite adversities."

He looked round at the small number of wizards in Dumbledore's portable office, before continuing.

"Severus, perhaps you could find out whether this test could be performed in any other way? I am not sure whether blood is as sacred to muggles as it is to us. Maybe she has gone for the most straightforward method she knows." He glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded in acknowledgement to Arthur Weasley and gazed round at the bare bones of the Order. Snape had dropped in suddenly in order to gain his immediate consent and the assembled company consisted of the few wizards who just happened to be there at the time.

"That is very perceptive Arthur, thank you. It is a matter of blood, but I feel it is also important to provide Mrs Frobisher with these samples if she needs them." He looked pointedly at Sirius. "We have indeed bestowed on her a highly esteemed position and it would be dishonourable not to extend our trust. If the blood is to be obtained, as Cecilia requests, it is entirely voluntary and I do not compel you."

"No!" exclaimed Sirius in horror. "Dumbledore, please! Giving wizard blood to a pathetic muggle like her? It's abominable...an effrontery, especially when..." He stopped abruptly and fell silent, glancing over to Remus.

"Severus, what samples does she need? I assume she has some of yours?" Dumbledore looked at Snape.

"She has," said Snape stiffly. "She needs a pureblood sample, half blood, and muggleborn. Also a squib. And," he looked across at Sirius, his eyes narrowing, "she'll probably need a sample from Harry..."

Moving almost automatically, Dumbledore took a step forward between Snape and Sirius, looking at them both and waiting for the soundless explosive atmosphere to subside before continuing.

"I understand," he said slowly, "that Cecilia has sought permission from Harry for this research. Therefore she had demonstrated a high level of integrity." He looked pointedly at Sirius. "Should she require Harry's blood, it is clear to me she will obtain it with his permission. Harry is no longer a child, Sirius. He is participating of his own volition."

"You can have my blood." A voice rang out firmly from the back of the room, breaking the silence.

"That is very good of you Remus," said Dumbledore. "However have you considered that Cecilia may discover your condition?"

"Yes, I know," said Remus slowly. "But my offer still stands, if it is of any use." He looked across at Snape.

"I would urge caution," said Snape. "She does not believe werewolves exist, and I would not like to introduce too many complications into the work."

"In that case," said Dumbledore. "A sample of my own will give you the pureblood sample, and with your own you have the half-blood." Sirius sniggered, then attempted to cover it up as a cough.

"We just need a muggle-born sample then," said Mrs Weasley. "And squib," added Kingsley Shacklebolt. "I'm sure Arabella will be more than happy to oblige."

"As will I," said Sturgis Podmore. "You're right, by the way Arthur. Muggle blood is not sacred to them. My parents used to donate when they could; they transfer it to one another when they are ill..." Molly Weasley turned her nose up in disgust.

"It's marvellous how practical muggles can be," said Dumbledore. "Now, when does she need these samples for, Severus?"

"As soon as possible, however – "

"What about other methods?" interrupted Molly. "If she can test with other samples, maybe you wouldn't need to take blood?" Snape nodded slightly.

"I will attempt to ascertain this," he said, surveying the wizards. "However I do hope that we will not experience such hostility if blood is needed."

However, thought Sirius, should an entirely different set of circumstances alter the height of the quidditch posts there will be no need for hostility...

88888888

Cecilia was thankful when it got to the weekend. The week had gone pretty well on the whole and she had managed to contain most of the lessons and, most importantly, they had been well received. Most of the students had appeared well-behaved and, apart from the dwindling numbers of students from Slytherin house, the rapport was, on the whole, good.

Equally, there had been some interesting adverse situations. In the fifth-years' third lesson, last thing yesterday, Ron was on fire – literally – when she had asked him to light a match, and there had been a fierce debate between Anthony Goldstein and Lavender Brown over the relative merits of muggle historical achievements.

Despite her reservations, she had actually begun to enjoy teaching, and it seemed the lessons were well received.

Today she had come to the potions classroom for a meeting with Snape. He had informed her yesterday as they passed in the corridor momentarily that he had read the book about cells and DNA, and had arranged to meet her today. However he had omitted to tell her the time.

Never mind, she thought, as she leafed through, "Hogwarts – a History" for what must have been the hundredth time. She could spend the time profitably by continuing with her chemical analysis of Snape's potion ingredients. Since she had been shanghaied as a teacher, she had barely looked at the research, much less done any practical work.

Carefully, she uncorked a jar labelled "lacewings", and began to chop them, considering the interesting conversation she'd had with Harry after the lesson. He had been very honest with her on Tuesday, and had detailed the extraordinary events of his life and she had idly mused that it had the makings of a bestselling series of books.

At one point, she even had to make an excuse to leave the room for a few minutes in order to compose herself after he had described how he had been tricked by a fake Mad-eye Moody, and how Wormtail, the friend of his father, Sirius and Remus, had killed Cedric Diggory; how the Death Eaters had appeared when Wormtail had regenerated Voldermort using Harry's blood...

It had only been when she had returned that he had explained that it was his aunt who offered protection to him while he was underage. His mother's sister had the protection in her blood, the ancient spell that had protected Harry when he was a baby...

That had been the most interesting part. Petunia Dursley sounded like a typical person with a secret, keeping up appearances to her neighbours, trying desperately to hide the skeletons of her past under linen tablecloths and gloss-finished woodwork. But what protected Harry? She was not a witch herself, and her parents were muggles. What exactly was it? Ow...

Cecilia's mind suddenly returned to the present and she looked down at what she'd tried to cut instead of a lacewing.

"Mrs Frobisher, I was wondering whether you were busy..." she turned to see Hermione, standing half in, half out of the classroom. "Sorry if I made you jump," she added, looking down at Cecilia's bleeding finger.

"Come in, Hermione," she said, sucking her finger. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering, Mrs Frobisher, I wanted to know..." she looked around at the table behind Cecilia. "Are you doing...science?"

"Hm, yes," said Cecilia, nodding slightly. "Research." Hermione looked back at her.

"I've always been fascinated; I've got some books that were my father's, he worked for a company called Marconi before he became a dentist. He gave them to me before I came here. All that knowledge, the excitement of discovering..." She pulled a tissue from her pocket and gave it Cecilia.

"For your finger. I've always wondered what it would have been like, being at a muggle school," Hermione's eye wandered to the table of ingredients again. "I know it seems strange but I've always wanted to know what it would have been like if I had gone to Wilchester Community School. I was home educated so I didn't go to juniors; mum let me choose. I almost did too; I almost went to Wilchester. I had to run up the road to stop her posting back the letter to Dumbledore saying no. It sounds strange but I just had to come here..."

Hermione looked around the classroom and Cecilia recognised the same contemplative undertones she had used herself. So hard to put into words...almost as if the alternative was unthinkable once you knew about the world of wizards...

"And though I am sure I made the right choice..."

"There's a little part of yourself that just wants to know what it would have been like," finished Cecilia. Hermione nodded.

"What was it like at school for you, Mrs Frobisher?"

"I enjoyed school, though it wasn't the same for everyone" Cecilia smiled as she sat down on one of the student benches. "But for me, there got to a stage, especially with science, that if I were to miss a single thing it would have been the end of the world."

"Me too," said Hermione, sitting next to her. "That's what I feel like here. I would have liked to have gone," repeated Hermione wistfully. "At least at a muggle school I wouldn't be called a mudblood every day."

"There's prejudice in the muggle world too," said Cecilia. "Here you have every creed of person; anyone who is magical is accepted here." She got to her feet; her muscles had begun to ache again.

"In the our world anyone who is different, at one stage or another, has been persecuted by other people who believe they are better, fitter, stronger, cleverer, more pious... I think that our fear and ignorance of people who are different to us is what muggles and wizards have most in common. But I think you'll all experience what it's like being in a muggle school from my lessons."

"My dad told me about the subjects he took, including science. I asked him about it when I went home to pack this summer. He said it was just like potions."

"Well, perhaps not quite as exciting as that," chuckled Cecilia. "School was very similar to here, we have exams, concerts, lessons, sports, hanging out, watching the boys play football and giggling about them..." Hermione shot her a worried look.

"I never had friends until I came here," she said. "I hardly met anyone at home, only my tutor and her daughter, and if it hadn't been for Harry and er,...Ron, I think it would be the same here... Anyway, thank you, it's been nice chatting, sorry to keep you."

"Not at all," said Cecilia. It had been nice chatting to Hermione too, despite the girl's natural tendency to speak to her as an adult.

"Oh," Hermione held out her hand. "Harry asked me to give you this. Bye" Cecilia looked down and took the folded papers from her. She unfolded them carefully, and glanced down at the top sheet, which began, "Dear Harry..."

"Hermione," called Cecilia, but it was too late. She looked at the pages underneath, and the words, "Raymond Lully," sprang out from the page.

Remus, thought Cecilia, thank you. She glanced to the bottom of the letter to Harry, and realised she was mistaken. The pages weren't from Remus, but Sirius.

Perhaps she would have been more productive that day if she hadn't read the letter. If she hadn't read it, she might have missed what she would come to regard as a very important piece of information. But, despite her best intentions, she did.

"Harry, I hope this letter finds you in good health. Dumbledore tells me you have conceded to participate in the Mrs Frobisher's research. I know what I said before you left for school, but I must impress on you that what you are doing is indeed very honourable thing. Endeavour if you can to discover the true nature of intent and should anything happen to me, you are the only hope for the Order. I enclose two pages from the Black Family Tome which may assist Mrs Frobisher. Tell her I know nothing more than what is written; Lully was a distant relative who worked with muggles, so it is little wonder my mother never spoke of him. Just remember not to do anything foolish that would put yourself in danger. I would strongly advise you to remember what is in the blood, as the limit of her conception is her weakness; she is a muggle, after all. I am proud of you Harry, as would be your father. Sirius."

Cecilia read the letter through again. It seemed simple enough and his care for Harry pervaded every sentence. But what did he mean by remembering what's in the blood? And what about that veiled attempt to disparage her?

"...the limit of her conception is her weakness..."

Glancing over the pages from Sirius's book, she folded them in half and threw them in her pocket. Her eagerness to analyse the potions samples had faltered; the sentence form Harry's letter having replaced objectivity.

How dare you Sirius, she said to herself, as she made her way back to her room. What do you know of it?

She turned the knob of the door and sat down on the bed.

"...she is a muggle, after all..."

Well sod you, Black. I don't treat these children any different because they think that ten minutes is a good time for tying shoelaces.

"And when are you going to make an appearance, Severus?" she said aloud, looking at the door in case magic happened to be a disease you caught and a fully educated Snape would walk right in now.

When it didn't happen, Cecilia unfolded the paper again. She should really return this to Harry, she though, taking the letter off the top of the pile, but then she glanced down at the sentences again, willing herself not to read the sentence about her.

"...the true nature of intent..." she glanced across the page "...remember what is in the blood..."

What is in the blood...quickly, she knelt down and pulled out "Mysterious Mythology" from under her bed. Cecilia recalled a story that had contained just those words...remember what is in the blood...

She leafed over the first few pages...Grimelda...the Princess and the Every-flavour bean...The house-elves and the wand-maker...

"Where is it, she said aloud, scanning from page to page. Then she stopped, and gasped in horror. Three pages were missing from the book. And what was more horrific was they had been torn out; the fibres of the pages hanging limply close to the spine...

Cecilia turned the book to the front and exclaimed aloud...the title of the story had been obliterated; a small burn mark, in the exact shape of the letter outline betrayed its assaulted state.

However she didn't need to know the title; in her first lab notebook, when she was recuperating at Grimmauld Place, she had made notes and speculations about the stories, when she had decided to give it back to Remus.

Looking inside her desk drawer, she found the notebook underneath the pile of new notes she had made. There it was, page 394, she had written. A story about knowledgeable industrialists who met once a month, when the moon was full, in order to exchange stories about their technological pursuits. She had written underneath, "the stories grew taller and taller, and they would demonstrate their more ludicrous ideas..."

She looked up. Why on earth would anyone...and more to point how did someone do this? Who had come in here? The book had been under her bed since she had got back to Hogwarts three weeks ago.

"Who would do what?" A voice was addressing her from the corner of the room. Cecilia put her notebook down and made towards the chair.

"Remus?"

"Wotcher! Who would do what, Cecilia?"

"Oh Tonks," said Cecilia. "I've just been reading Mysterious Mythology," she gestured to the bed. "But, oh God, some of the pages have been removed...torn out."

"Remus's book?" asked Tonks. "I thought you said you were giving it to him back...?"

"I was," sighed Cecilia. "He told me to keep it. I said it was a long-term loan. Who would do such a thing?"

"I don't know, but if I know Remus, he won't be too bothered. It could easily have been a spell, anyway; some books have articles and stories that self-destruct – copyright." She added airily.

"How are you, anyway, apart from stressing over work? I don't think it's that good for you, to be on the go the whole time, you need some time to relax."

"It's what I thrive on," said Cecilia, looking back over to Mysterious Mythology. Self-destructing stories? Well, anything's possible here, I suppose.

"Talking from experience?" asked Cecilia, settling down cross-legged in front of the fire. "Remus said you were busy."

"You've talked to Remus?"

"Yes, he popped his head in on Tuesday" said Cecilia. "Literally," she added, chuckling. "It's good to see you Tonks, I wanted to thank you for last week. The Three Broomsticks was just what I needed."

"It was great, wasn't it?" said Tonks, excitedly. "We'll have to do it again sometime, that is, if you think you can handle Snape and his warm and welcoming ways." Cecilia giggled.

"...Mrs Frobisher, is that butterbeer in your hand? Oh dear, I do hope you've brought enough for all of us..."

Tonks broke into hysterics at Cecilia's imperfect impression of Snape.

"We've definitely got to do that again. Anyway, how's the work? Snape mentioned you were going to test wizard blood..."

"That's right," said Cecilia. "But fat lot of use that will be unless Snape actually gets his arse in gear and gets through some of the theory. I never thought I would say this Tonks, but this is the first time I'm actually at a dead end." She sighed. "I need him to understand science because it ties in with magic. I can't do the magic that I need for these tests. That's what's slowing it all down."

"Is there any other way of testing for what you're looking for? I mean, if you're looking at different types of wizard..." she paused, as Cecilia gave her a puzzled look.

"Snape," admitted Tonks. "Heavens, Cecilia, do you lot get taught that look when you're training to be teachers? It's like...well...you could have asked me anything..." Cecilia arched her eyebrow.

"He mentioned you using an instrument, a device, looking for patterns in blood..."

"Cellular reproduction," said Cecilia, annoyed. "You see what I mean? He needs to understand about genetics and DNA so we can proceed with this..." she glanced at Tonks. "I can use other samples, such as hair, but it's the tests we need to go through..." A hint of uncertainty entered her voice.

"What's the matter?" asked Tonks.

"Nothing," said Cecilia, shaking her head. "It's been a long day. Look Tonks, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bore you."

"You're not, " said Tonks, kindly. "I just wish I understood what you were talking about, that's all. What would it take to test hair samples? Is it complicated?"

"A bit," said Cecilia. "You see..." but you don't see, she thought sadly. "If only I was working with Nick..."

"Nick?" said Tonks.

"My research colleague, when I worked in the muggle world as a scientist. We got on well, it was like we could have a laugh..." she paused, thinking of Nick...the night shifts, the pranks and practical jokes ...

"He was such a good friend. No, I'd need to go back to a muggle laboratory to test the hair. I'd have to call Nick and arrange it..." A thought entered her mind. Then I could visit home, she thought, make sure everything was all right...and the detail would be far superior...

"Well, if you need someone to come with you, you only have to ask," she winked. "So, when do you want to go out again? "

"I can't see it being any time soon," said Cecilia, sighing. "I really need to get to the bottom of this...it's so frustrating...I'll be 29 and we'll still be on binary fission and mitosis, I fear..."

"When's your birthday? Sounds like the ideal time for a drink," said Tonks, eagerly.

"Is that all you think about?" laughed Cecilia. "October...the 8th. A Monday,so I can't go out drinking all night..."

"Well it's decided then. I won't take no for an answer..."

"In that case...yes?"

Tonks and Cecilia chatted for a bit longer, and it was only when Tonks said she had to go on Auror duty that they broke off, and Cecilia was left feeling somewhat buoyant. Tonks always managed to do that...just like Remus had a few days before and she mused at how suited they were for each other. Two personable people.

Right, she thought feeling somewhat annoyed that Snape hadn't shown up, I'm going to have a bath. She grabbed her shampoo and felt the cool air on her bare flesh, anticipating the warming pampering she would now indulge in.

Just as she pushed open the bathroom door, Sirius's head appeared in the hearth. He smiled as he realised he could see into the room; Cecilia had neglected to replace the chair, and he scanned the room, noticing the door swung closed behind her.

Does it occur to you that spying on her is wrong, he asked himself, when she's doing a favour for the Order?

But...she was so...his gaze caught her nightie draped over the end of the bed...he mentally cleared his throat...she was a muggle goddammit, who could be doing Merlin knows what to Harry...he scanned the room again...anything else was just a bonus...

He jumped as the door opened.

"Cecilia!" Snape strode into her room. "This..." he held a book in his hand, then looked round the room for the absent Cecilia. Sirius opened his mouth to call out as Snape made his way towards the bathroom, then closed it again...

...this was an upside, definitely, the bathroom facilities, thought Cecilia as she massaged shampoo into her hair. Well, that's better than last week. Two more positives. Maybe she was getting used to...

"This," bellowed Snape. "How dare you give me this...this _child's book_..." Cecilia jumped as Snape thundered into the bathroom.

"I suppose you think that's funny, after all, muggles are supposed to have a weird sense of humour..." He stared at her, exigently.

"No," said Cecilia "How dare _you_! There's nothing whatever wrong with the book, it's got everything you need to know. Anyway listen," she began, "Harry..."

"Pah!" Snape threw the book onto the bathroom floor. "You did that deliberately, didn't you? After what I said to you last week. Of all the..."

"Actually no. I'm not that petty. We would have been miles ahead with our research by now if you'd only just bothered to..." It was Snape, in here, and she was...in the bath...oh God...

"That is not the..." he glanced at her, then lowered his gaze.

"If you just..."

"Right..."

"In there..." she pointed towards the bathroom door quickly.

Without looking back, he walked hastily through it.

Ten minutes later, Cecilia peered round the door. Snape was sitting, with his back towards her, head bent over her book. Dressing gown round her tightly, she scuttled behind the wardrobe, throwing open the door.

"Tell me again Severus, what you were saying about the book? I presume then, that you have read it now?"

He turned quickly. "Cecilia?" He cleared his throat. "Mrs Frobisher?" His voice had lost some of its bitterness.

"Just here," she said, leaning round the corner of the wardrobe door, hair still wrapped up in a towel.

"I'm, er..." he swallowed. "I can see now why I needed to read it. Tell me, do muggle children really learn about this at twelve?"

Cecilia nodded as she sat herself down. Jeans and tee-shirt was so much more suitable than birthday suit...

"Listen, I didn't mean to insult you. I knew you were busy; this was the most suitable book and you've managed it in week..." My word, thought Cecilia. I think that really shocked him...

"A day, actually...so, how does this relate to the blood samples?"

"You've got them?" Cecilia got up, shaking off her towel, and began to brush her hair. She moved the tall chair back in front of the fire and sat down on it.

"Yes, " said Snape, glancing at her. "Not physically as yet, but they're on their way. However, there is something you must understand. Wizard blood, it is precious, unique. It can be used by wizards in binding spells, compelling other wizards to do their bidding..." he paused. "Being a wizard, it truly is in the blood."

"That is the exact reason I wanted you to conduct the research," said Cecilia levelly, she looked down. "Look, about Draco Malfoy, I really didn't know about wands. Admittedly, I didn't think either..."

"I have contained it, " said Snape, coldly. "Do not concern yourself with it, Cecilia. Now, you mentioned Mr Potter, perhaps you could enlighten me..."

Cecilia paused. OK. This is it. As close to the slate being wiped clean as it was possibly going to get, and they spent the next half an hour discussing her theory and she had to admit, Snape had picked up the everything and more from his short study session. She was actually impressed.

But, as usual when things were going well, Murphy and his legislation always made an appearance to make the "well" turn into "not well"... It was only when Cecilia realised she had compared muggles favourably to wizards that "not well" turned into "catastrophic".

"You can't seriously expect me believe that Dumbledore will allow you to visit Potter's relatives and obtain a blood sample? There has to be another way..."

"There is, said Cecilia. I could take a hair sample. If one of the Order were to visit the Dursley's, get hold of some, then I could have that analysed..."

"How? You've already said that blood is the only way to test magical energy. Does this involve another children's book?" She could detect the bitterness in his voice.

"DNA fingerprinting." She returned to the bathroom and retrieved the book Snape had thrown on the floor. "This will give us more insight into the link between Harry and his aunt. I mean, have you never thought why this has transferred? The fingerprint relates to amino acids, and we can see which have been inherited..."

"But you haven't got this equipment," said Snape, pointing to the picture. "I agree it certainly would add to our knowledge and understanding. We can't do it here, though..."

"I've already thought of that," said Cecilia. "Nick, my former colleague. He thinks I'm working for the patent office, in London. He knows the work's confidential, and won't ask questions. All I'll need is a sample of pureblood hair for comparison. Then we'll know for sure..." He nodded, then stopped abruptly.

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Snape, getting up, suddenly looking uneasy.

"Why do you think? It wouldn't need much," she looked across his hair. "If you cut it from underneath, it wouldn't be seen..." She stopped, looking at his expression. His face was pale, his eyes beady, analysing her.

"You presume too much," he said, in a voice like liquid nitrogen pouring over granite, rubbing his left forearm, and glancing down. Glancing at her sharply, he turned and hurried out.

"Wha..." said Cecilia, as the door closed. She crossed the flagstone floor lightly, and watched him stride swiftly down the corridor.

"Not this time," she said aloud and, grabbing a cardigan and a pair of shoes, Cecilia hurried after him...

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	13. A Close Shave

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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Cecilia hurried after Snape, though the back gates of the castle, down the hill and towards the lake. The cool autumn air hit her face as she got outside, and she shivered a little. If she hadn't been thinking about where in the world he was disappearing off to, she would have been thankful that she had pulled a cardigan on round her shoulders before she left.

She followed him across the dew-moist grass at the back of the castle, having to almost sprint in the effort to keep him in sight; she'd thought she's almost lost him twenty minutes ago, but had been lucky to spot him slipping out of the door from the teacher's quarters and into the castle courtyard. He passed the Astronomy Tower now, and headed down the incline. Cecilia paused slightly to catch her breath again before continuing with her pursuit.

Where is it you're going Severus, she though, her heart thumping hard in her chest with the effort. What are you doing that you have to run off like that every so often? She could not see the path she was following due to the failing light and as she fixed her focus on the figure of Snape she stumbled over a hillock and slipped down a small incline.

I'm not going to lose you, she thought determinedly to herself as she ran down the steps close by the Owlery, and as she looked at where Snape was heading fleeting glimpses of the day not too long ago of her walking in the grounds and her eponymous meeting with Hagrid flicked into her mind. Snape was heading into the Forbidden Forest.

Redoubling her speed she hurried to catch him up as he strode away through the evening mist, and as the edge of the forest loomed into view, she paused and considered the situation.

Whatever he was doing, she reasoned, taking in the imposing and forbidding nature of the trees, it had to be something perfidious, or else he wouldn't feel the need to slip off like this. She tried to recall what Hagrid had said about him at the feast, about him having a lot of things on...

Cecilia glanced ahead of her. The trees, just beyond the edge of the Owlery were imposing and forbidding. Hagrid had warned her of the dangers, of werewolves and other horrors, but if she turned back now she would never know what he was up to. She looked up at the trees.

They stood tall and straight, their statuesque presence imposing their inhospitality and, inhaling deeply she shivered as the gloom enveloped her and began to pick her way through the roots of the trees, following the path Snape had taken. He was still just about in her sight.

It was then she noticed outlined in the gloom an emanation, a haze of green. And just on the cusp of hearing too, sounds, like voices whose amplitude, as Snape walked forward, rose. If she could just get beyond here, she would be able to hear what was being spoken and see who it was who was speaking.

Keeping her eyes focused ahead, she stepped forward and almost fell over a tree root. Cecilia stuck out her arms involuntarily to break her fall, but before she reached the ground she felt a large arm grip her round the waist as a hand covered her mouth.

"Mrs Frobisher, you should never have come 'ere," she heard Hagrid whisper near her ear, his hot breath a shock to the side of her head that had become chilled in the cold night air.

"I'm takin' yer out of harm's way," he added, lifting her up and began to head out of the Forbidden Forest with Cecilia under his arm. "You should not of followed Professor Snape," he continued chidingly as they left the forest. "Your scaramangering just might have been the last thing you ever did..."

"Put me down, Hagrid," whispered back Cecilia indignantly. "What were you doing following me in the first place?"

"I was in the Forest, guarding, when I noticed yer," continued Hagrid, as he proceeded towards his hut, now carrying her under one arm. "But I did think I'd credit you with more sense, Mrs Frobisher. You know what Professor Snape has to do, and you know the dangers he has to face." He pushed open the door, and she saw the glow of the fireplace illuminate the rough wooden floor in front of her.

"Look, will you please stop carrying me?" said Cecilia, annoyed. "Why is it any of your business where I go anyway?"

"Because I don't want as you to be killed, Mrs Frobisher, does I?" He swung her round, and dropper her unceremoniously onto a chair and, walking around the other side of the table reached for a log for the fire.

"And if not for your own silly sake, then for all the others as depend on yer." He walked back, throwing the log onto the fire and repositioning the kettle over it. "Tea?" She nodded. Her hair was still damp from the bath she'd taken earlier, and she'd begin to feel chilly.

"What I want to know is why, after all yer know of Professor Snape, would you get it into your mind to follow him? If I hadn't noticed yer, all hell would have broken loose..." He glanced over to Cecilia. "Yer don't know, Mrs Frobisher, do yer?"

She swallowed, about to make a rebuttal but, feeling a touch of humility, glanced down slightly and shook her head.

"What can you tell me, Hagrid?" she asked. "I'm supposed to be working with him, but there seems such a...chasm between us..." Hagrid raised an eyebrow.

"Well it aint none o' my business what you and Professor Snape get up to of course..." he began, then frowned as Cecilia laughed lightly. "No a chasm...a gap..." she stretched out her arms to demonstrate her meaning. Hagrid raised his big bushy eyebrows.

"I mean he's so remote, it's hard to relate to him," she added. "If only he'd managed to do what I'd asked him to do, we would have been miles ahead by now. Anyone would think that he just doesn't care about what we're supposed to do..."

"Well, as I said, ain't none of my business o' course, " said Hagrid slowly, wiping out a couple of tin mugs with a cloth that had seen better days, "and I should hate to tread on the toes of someone as learned as yourself Mrs Frobisher," he placed the cups on the uneven table and reached for the kettle, "as I am sure you have already taken inter account that Professor Snape is not doing business for the Order of the Phoenix and his lack of attention to your work is done just to set you out..." He handed her a tin mug and looked at her, pointedly.

"But..." she began then paused, taking the scalding hot mug from Hagrid and balancing it on the upturned box next to her. Maybe she had been taking things too seriously. Perhaps she had been too focused on the work that she had ignored everything that was going on around her.

"I'm not used to this, Hagrid," she said, in an altogether more humble tone. "This..." she waved her hand in the direction of Hogwarts, "it's hard to adjust to..." she looked down and sighed.

"And I can't promise Dumbledore I won't go where my curiosity takes me if I think I'm onto something but if I end up in trouble as a result, it's like you say Hagrid…but it's not just me..." She sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. God she was an idiot sometimes. When would she learn not everything was open for examination and analysis? Why, when it came to cold hard science did she behave like a headstrong child?

"I di'n mean to talk out of turn..." He looked at her and smiled encouragingly. "Mrs Frobisher…Cecilia...you're bound to make a few mistakes...a muggle here, it's never happened before, not in the history of Hogwarts..." He pulled a chair up next to her. "Look, drink your tea. I'm sure whatever's on your mind, it probably ain't as bad as all that..." She looked up and smiled.

"I need to piece it together. Whatever I don't know...it's hard to explain. It's like talking in two languages some of the time...mugglish and wizardish..." she chuckled wanly at her own lame syntactic joke. "We're talking about the same things most of the time, I know we are, but I need to know what it is before we can understand why, and it's very difficult when he won't talk to me, or just clears off like tonight..." She paused; it was now or never...

"Can you tell me...where was Severus going tonight? I mean it's something to do with the Order, isn't it?" She looked earnestly at Hagrid.

"That I can't tell yer; it's not my place. You'd be better off asking Professor Dumbledore, or Professor Snape himself." He sat down on an overlarge chair, filling it snugly, and took a sip of tea.

"But he went regardless, didn't he?" she persisted. "It wouldn't have been anything to do with what I said to him, would it?"

"All I can tell yer," said Hagrid slowly, "is that Professor Snape went down to the Forbidden Forest tonight because of the Order work he is carrying out. It won't be to do with anything you said to him Cecilia, trust me on that," he added, glancing at her. "How's yer tea?"

Cecilia glanced at the mug. The milk appeared to have added a greenish tinge to it. She lifted the mug uncertainly to her lips, taking a sip.

"It's hot," she said, attempting the best smile she could to illustrate her gratitude. "Thank you, Hagrid." She brushed a stray tear from her cheek.

"How did you know I was there, Hagrid?" said Cecilia, at length. "In the Forbidden Forest?"

"It were pure luck, actually," replied Hagrid, smiling briefly. "Carrying out my gamekeepering, I was, then I noticed you go past the Black Lake. Heard you breathing heavy in the Forest and wham, saved yer."

"Saved me from who?" said Cecilia

"The Death Eaters who Professor Snape was meetin'" said Hagrid. "Oh dear," he added hastily. "I shouldn't 'ave told you that. Dumbledore'll string me up by the thumbs..."

"Death Eaters?" said Cecilia. "Yes, I know about them. The followers of Voldermort." She looked at Hagrid. "Look, Dumbledore knows I know. But I suppose if Severus is meeting them in the Forest, its Order business like you say, so I needn't know."

She sipped her tea again then wished she hadn't. Hagrid's face went from worried to relieved, to confused.

"But if yer know about them, Cecilia, why did you follow Professor Snape? Surely you know what they are capable of doin' to muggles?" She nodded.

"I've seen some moving pictures," she replied. "Maybe I shouldn't have been so impetuous. But I didn't know he was meeting Death Eaters or I wouldn't have followed him." But if he was on a mission for the Order, why didn't he just say so, she added to herself.

"Hagrid," she said, yawning slightly despite herself. "Can you tell me about Voldermort, about the last time he became powerful? I've read the books, but I think I'd understand it better if someone who lived through it were to tell me."

Hagrid got to his feet, and poured some more tea from the huge teapot into his mug. He gestured towards Cecilia's, but she shook her head. She curled her leg underneath her and, despite the warmth from the fire, she shivered.

"Well, they was dark times, dark times," he paced back round to the other side of the table, and picked up his mug. "Yeh have to understand Cecilia, that some wizards were dragged into You-Know-Who's world; some were caught up in the wossname...glamour of it all. Some, though, chose it willingly..." He took a sip of his tea.

"Twenty odd years ago, when You-Know-Who was at his most terrible, no-one was safe, not even wizards. If yeh weren't with him, if yer weren't on his side, he would find yer out. Gods only know how many wizards were tortured, died at his hands. And what he were offering were more power than anyone could imagine for well...just a little thing, to hate muggles; only nat'rl to most wizards on account of muggles being so different from wizards as yer well know, Cecilia. He played on that; played on wizard's suspicions of that difference to take his chance and get a hold o' the whole world. There are wizards even now who, though playin' at respectability and holdin' upstandin' jobs, who are trying to help him return to power."

Hagrid paused and looked across at where Cecilia was sitting, knees still pulled up to her chest, looking earnestly at him. When she had not asked a question or made a comment about what he had said, he took another sip of his tea and continued.

"Well Harry, of course, changed all that. Lily, his mother and him. Never been anything like it before or since. But since You-Know-Who returned to his full power, a few months ago, Dumbledore, well. He knew he had to do something more than he was doing, something big. Otherwise we would be returnin' to those dark times again. But if it makes you feel any better, what Professor Snape was doin' tonight was for Dumbledore; what he always does, it's for the Order...for good…"

Cecilia nodded her head slowly. It was all becoming clear. The key players in this situation were so vitally important to whether You-Know-Who won or was defeated, it was almost too big to comprehend. What it did need was a manager of skill, strength and composure...it needed Dumbledore... Is it any wonder she didn't know the half of it? Would it do herself or her work for Dumbledore any good if she did?

"I think I see now," said Cecilia eventually. "Thank you, Hagrid."

"For what?" he said. "I only said what were true." He stood up and picked up the lukewarm kettle again to reboil the water.

"I still need to ask questions to do this research, though," she continued, shaking her head as Hagrid proffered the teapot. "To do what I need to do there are things that I need to know...and I need to ask Severus things, specifically him because of his extensive knowledge of potions. But I always run the risk of sticking my foot in it; treading on toes. That's why I chose to follow him tonight, to find out for myself the things I've been too afraid to ask…I didn't realise he was on a mission…if only he'd told me..."

She paused, and swallowed, as the realisation of the monumental oversight dawned on her, making her feel particularly stupid. He _had _told her; in the summer, when he used to go off in the daytimes, and sometimes in the evening. He told her he was working for the Order…

"Hagrid," she said, after a few moments. "Do you…do you think it would be all right if I were to come to talk to you, if I needed to find anything out? To see whether you think it's suitable or not? Just say if it's not," she added hastily, noticing a shadow fall across his large bushy face.

"Me?" He said, raising an eyebrow. "You want to talk to me?"

"Well, not often, only if you can spare the time. It's just, well. My judgement seems off here, sometimes way off. It would be...it would make me feel...more secure..."

She wondered whether she had gone too far; Hagrid stood up almost as quickly as he had sat down, and turned to look out of the window. Finally, he turned back to look at her, his face solemn.

"Why o' course...yeh...it'd be an honour. Anything that I can do for Dumbledore...anything I can do for you...it must be such a difficult time for you Cecilia, a little muggle suchn' yourself...it means a lot you asking, t does."

Cecilia smiled as relief overcame her. At last, someone she could rely on; someone she could at least sound out before taking a stupid risk, like she had done tonight, who wasn't an Order member, or a best friend or cousin of someone...someone whose opinion she could trust…

"It means a lot to me too," she said quietly, "Thank you for the tea Hagrid, and for being so honest with me. I'm going to have to get back to the castle, now though, or I won't be able to get through tomorrow's lessons…"

"Can't let you go back yet," said Hagrid, "Death Eaters will prob'ly still be out there..." He stopped noticing the look of panic cross her face.

"You could always stay here, if you want to of course...only if you don't think it improper...there's a blanket behind you that Fang has sat on for only a week…" Cecilia nodded wearily. It would be stupid of her to leave now; it really would sour relations between Severus and herself; if she had to wait here till the morning anyway, she might as well have a sleep.

"Thanks Hagrid, that would be great. Are you sure Fang won't mind?"

"Not at all; 'e's just an old softy, really," said Hagrid, getting up and refilling the teapot with the boiled water. Cecilia nodded he gestured towards it, and reached behind her to pull the dark brown blanket off the back of her chair, tucking her legs under her. Despite the chair being wooden and hard, Fang's blanket was as soft as eiderdown, despite it smelling like a musty pair of socks. She took the tea from Hagrid.

"So, these tests you're doing, Cecilia," Hagrid said, changing the subject and sitting back down again. "What is it yer doing?"

"Well," said Cecilia, closing down one part of he mind and opening up another. "We've looked at the biological differences between muggles and wizards, and the heritage between us. I think here must be a scientific reason for the difference between us...probably in the DNA..." she paused, looking into Hagrid's confused face.

"I don't know anything about any Danny A, but if you're a wizard, well - 't's in the blood, 'aint it…? That's all there is to it. Don't tell me it's taken you two months to come to that conclusion Cecilia, when any wizard could have told you. Blimey, 't's no wonder muggles are so far behind wizards, tech'ncly speaking..." he laughed and, as everything fell into place, Cecilia laughed too. It's all in the blood. She put her hand to her pocket, touching the parchment which was Sirius's letter to Harry.

Any wizard could have told her...how ironic then that the one wizard who would have least liked to have helped her out in any way was the very wizard who had done so.

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"Good morning, Cecilia, I trust you slept well?" Dumbledore was sitting in what Cecilia had begun to term in her mind his usual position; seated behind his desk, fingers steepled and looking over his spectacles.

"Adequately," she nodded. It was true; she had been quite snug curled up in Fang's blanket in Hagrid's hut and very reluctant to get up at 5am and go. During the brisk walk over the grounds of Hogwarts Hagrid had informed her that Dumbledore had wanted to see her and despite her protests at looking far from her best to see the headmaster of Hogwarts, he had taken her through an hitherto un-noticed door at the bottom of the tallest tower of the castle whose exit at the top led into Dumbledore's office.

She was now standing before him, Hagrid having departed and, vaguely aware that she smelt of dog, began to feel a little uneasy.

"Why do you need to see me, Professor?" she prompted. Dumbledore smiled.

"Professor Snape and I have been able to obtain the samples you requested of wizard blood. I spoke to him at length about your understanding of the situation Cecilia, and he feels that you appreciate the contentious nature of your request." He rose to his feet. Cecilia waited for him to continue.

"I understand your teaching this week has been somewhat of a hit with many of our students," he said, the corners of his mouth flicking up briefly. "Our plan is working on that front."

"However the students of Slytherin..." began Cecilia. "There have been fewer and fewer all week."

"As I expected," said Dumbledore. "Your cover is a success I'm sure you'll agree; I doubt you will have any Slytherin students by Monday, so horrified they are by your presence, that no-one suspects you are not who you say you are – they would never dream that a muggle would come to Hogwarts and no wizard would pretend to be a squib..." He watched the look of horrified realisation pass over her face.

"Dilys overheard you discussing this with Severus; it is an honourable thing Cecilia, that you put yourself out above what is required of you." He paced back to behind the table. "What ever you need to do with respect to the research you are at liberty to do so," he added.

"Severus will be able to provide some of the samples tomorrow evening; many of the Order members were more than happy to contribute. Speaking of which, you are still a member of the Order. There is a meeting tomorrow night at Grimmauld Place. As this coincides with the arrival of the samples, I took the liberty of asking Minerva whether she would act as a liaison between you and the Order, until such time that you have something which you are happy to present to them. I trust you are happy with this?"

Cecilia sighed with relief. She had half expected Dumbledore to be arranging with her to return tomorrow. Despite what she'd said to Tonks and Remus, she wasn't sure whether she could actually face going back there yet...

"That will be fine," said Cecilia. "I do appreciate the trust that you have in me. There is still a lot for me to understand and for Severus...Professor Snape..." she could feel herself blushing and, reaching into her pocket, changed the subject.

"Yesterday Hermione inadvertently gave me this, it's a letter from Sirius to Harry which I read before I realised what it was. Would you mind returning it for me? I would do it myself only I would prefer to keep Sirius out of the research as far as possible." Dumbledore nodded briefly and extended his hand.

"Consider it done," he said taking it from her. "That's all I need to discuss, Cecilia. You may take your leave to freshen up if that is all on your part. I take it Hagrid's hut was comfortable last night?"

"Professor, I..." she began, but he held up a hand.

"As I said, you are at liberty with respect to your research, as a member of the Order. You do not need to justify yourself, Cecilia. You have already made an astounding effort in adjusting to our ways, I truly hope you will become more used to us."

"Very well," he sat back down at his desk. "Minerva will keep you informed of the Order meeting, and Severus will provide samples tomorrow night." Cecilia nodded again.

"Thank you Professor," she said, turning to go. "Good morning."

"And now we wait," said Dumbledore to himself, as she left.

88888888

The next month went by quickly. She did indeed become more accustomed to the ways of wizards and quickly made parallels between the wizard world and that of muggles. As Dumbledore had predicted, the cohort of Slytherin students rapidly reduced to zero until she was teaching only students from the other three houses and she began to fall into a routine: teaching during the day, and research with either Snape or Harry in the evenings.

The students worked well in her lessons. Hermione's work was consistently outstanding, although they all put in a lot of effort and at times they had gone to great lengths to discover relevant information. They had begun to get better at connecting ideas together and coming up with logical inter-linked arguments.

One piece of homework on historical Britons stuck in Cecilia's mind, which caused her one weekend to make an important discovery of her own. Whether he did have an obsession for cows or milkmaids, Cecilia didn't feel she was in a position to comment on, but Terry Boot seemed to have omitted the most important part of Edward Jenner's life.

Harry had written about Stephen Hawking, although he could not say why he was famous. Seamus had written about the British Monarchy since 1066 and why each monarch was famous, although he seemed to have got the wrong end of the stick regarding "Henry VIII and his six knives".

However the most impressive was Ron, who had written almost three times that of anyone else about Isambard Brunel, explaining that he had got most of his information from Mr Weasley. It was on that basis that she rewarded him with an encyclopaedia of scientists for his trouble with which Ron was delighted although appeared quite shy to come out from his bench to collect it from her.

The students' work prompted Cecilia to search for historical records within the depths of the library one Sunday afternoon. There was a Quidditch match on, and Snape had informed her he wouldn't be available to continue the research on the blood so she took the opportunity to advance her own knowledge. This resulted in her discovery that in fact there were more similarities than differences between wizards and which ran back to just over a thousand years ago.

Before this time, wizards and muggles co-existed in communities together but, over time, muggles became more religious and they became suspicious of anyone who could perform magic. Slowly, bit by bit, ignorance and hatred began to divide them, muggles suspicious of wizards for being able to perform magic and wizards scorning muggles because they could not.

Eventually wizards isolated themselves from muggle world, and banded together to form their own societies. Only a few wizards, believing that they could change things for the better, remained within muggle towns and villages, but to no avail.

Salazar Slytherin, who appeared to be one of the most extreme advocates for the eradication of muggles in Britain had founded Hogwarts over a thousand years ago to maintain the history, culture and education of wizards and had not wished to admit wizards unless they were pureblood, but was outvoted by the other three founders.

Cecilia read the information through three times from the book to ensure she was not mistaken before she concluded that she had made progress however she was less than pleased about her progress with Raymond Lully.

Maddeningly the only thing she could find out about him was in the alumni of Hogwarts which listed a one Raymond Lully born in the 1893 and died in 1956. At least that fitted with the time the Raymond Lully in Pompops Pomfrey's notes had been around, and the brief sentence about him in Sirius's letter but it wasn't a great deal of use. Nor was the fact that being a wizard was in the blood.

The practical research was becoming more useful but also very frustrating. Snape conducted an experiment by using different spells on the blood samples and she had found regardless of the donor cellular reproduction took place in all of them.

But this was about all they had discovered as Snape had barely spent any time with her; rushing off at inopportune moments and not returning for days. His attitude was still cold to their work, although he often spoke to her levelly in his confident understanding of science as they refined the structure of their research plan. Cecilia supposed her lack of suspicion of his disappearances, although sudden and inconvenient, also helped towards a mutual respect that was beginning to form between them, despite their differences.

He refused to work with Harry however, and Cecilia was left increasingly alone to discuss ever more personal details with him, offering on at least one occasion for him to question her, and he spent a good half an hour asking what appeared to Cecilia as being quite odd questions about her life, such as when she was his age, the schoolwork, her friends; her boyfriends, even her favourite colour.

It was Snape's refusal to help her with Harry that meant she often had to retreat to the hospital wing. Although she no longer needed any painkillers, she found got much more tired than usual. Madam Pomfrey never seemed too busy for a chat though, and over the month she exhausted her stock Pompops Pomfrey's notes. She even called on Professor Snobbits to interpret a parchment which appeared to be half written in hieroglyphics.

When not thinking about work, Cecilia played her part of teacher to perfection. She made the effort to engage with school life of the students. Despite not being attached to a House, she watched in amazement and with increasing excitement a Quidditch match played at the last week of September, and found herself standing with Professor McGonagall cheering on Ravenclaw to their 80 - 54 victory against Slytherin while Minerva debriefed her about the latest Order business.

There were some things that began to frustrate her though; Dobby was still relentless in his attention and obsession with Harry, and it took her having to remember to out the chair in front of the fire to stop its flickering, and having to occasionally move it when Tonks popped her head in to say hello.

When Snape disappeared off leaving her sometimes in mid-sentence she couldn't help thinking that despite all of the effort on Dumbledore's part to procure blood samples from different wizards, she might easily forgo the theory part of the research and stem her frustration. It was such an easy test, even Nick could carry it out. If only she had asked for hair samples instead of blood...

And it was ideas such as these that entered her mind, as her thoughts wandered off at a tangent and she experienced a pang of longing for home and for how things used to be.

This homesickness came to a head the Friday after the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match, three days before her birthday, when she received a letter from Amy. Inside was a card from her mum and one from Libby, decorated lovingly by Freya using milk bottle tops and tissue paper to make pretty flowers. Dobby had woken her up early with an envelope and danced round enthusiastically while she opened it.

Using all the cunning she had the conscience for, she urged him to look for Harry saying she needed him that evening for work, trying to hold back the tidal wave of emotion for as long as she could as he hopped out of the door.

She sobbed when she eventually looked down at the letter in detail. Not only was there Freya's pretty card, wishing her Aunty Celia a happy birthday but a picture of her goddaughter, dressed beautifully in a lilac dress that she knew Libby would have bought from Rackhams, as she did every year. Freya was wearing the bangle she had left in the summer, and she had, in the three months that she had seen her, grown.

Wiping away a few tears she looked at the words on the page. Amy was talking about her new job, and how she had split up with Patrick. The message from Libby told her how Tippex had had 4 little black kittens, and she had to stop Freya from taking them to school with the intention of supplementing her pocket money. She looked at everything around her on the bed, trying to stem the flow of tears, and stood up, beginning to pace.

"I have to go home," she said to herself, trying to calm herself down "Just for a little while. I need to see Libby, and check what Amy's done to the house. Hug little Freya who's not so little any more." She raised her pyjama'd arm to her cheek, catching the torrent of tears that began to fall.

"Why the hell didn't I ask for hair samples? I could have gone to see Nick, and it would have been a break..."

She sat back down on the bed and let the tears fall. Why was she like this? It wasn't as if she'd get back and a living breathing Tim would be there, waiting for her. Was it him she as still missing? Or was it home? Perhaps there still was time to go home. Maybe if she could convince Dumbledore she needed to do that as well. It might come to that actually, if we didn't get round to all the tests.

"Oh Tim," she said aloud. "I do so miss you..." But if it was her husband she still missed, well, there was nothing she could do about that. She stared down at the floor for what seemed like an age, mulling things over in her mind.

"Cecilia? Are you all right?"

Cecilia jumped, her mind returning to the present: Remus's voice was coming from the hearth. She quickly moved the chair and sat down on the flagstones, still pyjama-clad.

"Yes, I am Remus," she said carefully. "Just...thinking of home a bit. Anyway, how are you? Haven't heard from you for ages."

"Oh fine, fine." he said. "How's the research going? Found anything useful?"

"Not yet," she sighed. "I have found out that wizards and muggles used to live together, thousands of years ago. But Severus hasn't been able to spend as much time as we'd planned on the actual practical. I'm actually considering another way of testing the samples, and get a visit home. Kill two birds with one stone."

"I wonder if anyone has ever actually done that, killed two birds with one stone. I mean, is it actually possible?"

"Well," she said, "you'd have to get the right trajectory. If the stone hit the first bird in the head, the angle it bounced off the head would have to be...what?" She stopped, realising that Remus was laughing.

"You," he said, still chuckling. "It was a joke, you didn't have to get all mathematical on me. Hey, watch it," he said, moving his head out of the way in mock-reaction to the book she threw in his direction. It permeated the flame, landing at the back of the fireplace, undamaged. "At least that's stopped you looking so down, Cecilia." He paused briefly and changed the subject.

"Did you get all of the samples by the way? Dumbledore said you were still in need of one."

"We still need a half-blood sample, one of a grown person where one of their parents was a muggle, rather than a muggle-born," she said, retrieving the book. "Not that it's going to make much difference at this rate though, with Severus's Order work."

"What Order work?"

"Well the reason he keeps on leaving half way through work, sometimes we haven't even had a chance to start...The only other chance we have is to test the DNA of the samples we have; but it'd mean me leaving and going back into the muggle world for the tests to be carried out. They would be done in a day though."

"I don't know when we could get you the sample," said Remus carefully. "Most of the Order's busy, but I'll ask Tonks. She knows people..."

"Bet she does," said Cecilia, grinning.

"How are you yourself? I noticed you haven't been to any Order meetings. Coping with a rabble of wizard children?"

"Not too bad. I imagined worse," Cecilia said wearily. The truth was most of the time she was tired out, and when Snape cancelled their meetings at short notice it meant she had to think on her feet and rejuggle her priorities. Even if she hadn't felt so bad, multitasking had never been one of her strong points.

"You're a very bad liar, Cecilia," said Remus. "I've taught Hogwarts students, remember? That they keep you on your toes is an understatement. I'm just concerned about why you're upset."

"That's sweet," she said, smiling. "It was just a letter I got off Amy, my sister. Reminded me of what they're all doing while I'm here. That and my masterpiece of a birthday card off my goddaughter." She pulled Freya's card off the bed and angled it to the fire to show him.

"Oh that's right, Tonks mentioned it was your birthday on Monday, and that you were going out..."

"Yes, 29," said Cecilia. "An old woman". Remus snorted.

"Come off it, you're in your prime."

"Past it, more like," said Cecilia. "Anyway, can you let Tonks know I'm still up for it, if she is? I won't be at tomorrow's meeting." There was a pause.

"Cecilia, you not coming to the Order meetings has nothing to do with Sirius, has it? Because you know he's sorry for what he did..."

"Look, I can understand he's your friend and everything, but can't see us getting pally this side of the next century, Remus. It's not what he did it's..." She stopped as she watched Remus's face fall. She wanted to tell him about Sirius's attitude in the letter to Harry, but couldn't bring herself to do it. He was his friend after all, and he'd already borne a lot of her criticism.

"Anyway, are you coming out with us on Sunday then? Tonks did mention you might."

"That would have been great," said Remus, "but sadly...no...I have Order business of my own to complete. To which I must return presently, I fear."

"Before you go," said Cecilia, trying not to make her voice sound too urgent. "Your book, Mysterious Mythology. I'm not sure if Tonks told you, though I asked her to, some of the pages were torn out...I noticed a few weeks ago and told her. I'm not sure who did it, or what happened, I'm dreadfully sorry, Remus..." She frowned, and looked down.

"Yes she did tell me. Not to worry Cecilia. Sometimes things like that do happen to magical books, it's not very well understood. There's a whole section on the phenomenon in the Hogwarts library, or there was when I was a teacher. Biblioinflamore, it's called. At least they should be there, unless they've burst into flames themselves..." Cecilia laughed.

"As long as you're sure," said Cecilia. "Otherwise I'd hate you to think I've deliberately damaged your book."

"Just out of interest, do you know which part of the book was damaged? Was it anything in particular?"

"It was a story about some learned men, scholars, who travelled by the light of the full moon, to each others' houses for dinner once a month and talked about magical inventions. Is it important?"

"No, I don't think so, I just wondered. Anyway, I really must be going. Tonks said she'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks at 9.30. She asked me to ask you if you could find your way there on your own..."

"Yes, no problem," said Cecilia. How is it that he's got an answer for everything? Why can't he at least have the good grace to have a character flaw so she could use it as an excuse to bring up Sirius and get it off her chest?

"Well, goodbye then" he said.

"Bye" said Cecilia, smiling a little.

She sat by the fire for a few minutes after it dimmed. That was it, she thought as she stared into the space where Remus's head had been. I'm going to tell Dumbledore I do need to go back home, and take the blood and hair samples for a DNA test. Otherwise we could both be here till Kingdom come...

88888888

Her resolution and subsequent guilt at requesting to leave Hogwarts was almost broken that evening. She had only taught two lessons that day and began work early on the research.

Not only had Snape brought the sample that she'd mentioned to Remus that they needed, but he did not leave the whole evening.

He was, of course, his usual self, bringing caustic sarcasm to bear on her periodically, but that was tempered by the discovery they were making.

The major difference they found was that the lymphocytes in every sample bar her own and that of the squib responded to the transfiguration spell. The cells changed in response to this and on closer inspection she discovered that it was specifically the nucleus of the cells that changed.

She encouraged Snape to try other spells, all ones involving the changing of something to something else. The blood samples themselves were not changing, but the nuclei in the white blood cells most definitely were.

When they tried other spells, she noticed too that the mitochondria changed, in all but her own and the squib sample, increasing in size to accommodate something...what? What were the mitochondria in the wizard samples doing that they weren't doing in the squib and muggle samples?

"It's the energy store," said Snape. "You've mentioned it yourself. And it makes sense because of the energy in the wand."

"But how is it being controlled? It has to be controlled in the blood or else the concentration of energy from the spells would distort the cells. We've already seen that they function in every way like muggle samples, so if they did not, we would be an altogether different species." She paced around to the other side of the table to where the microscope was.

"What is it you're doing," she said aloud to the blood sample sitting innocuously under the lens, as she thought.

"There must be some control mechanism for the energy. The energy can't be entering the cells directly; there must be a cell organelle or a process in the witch or wizard what controls the mitochondria. Either that or..."

"Or it is transferred thorough the witch or wizard to something else," finished Snape, acidly. "I am sure you were going to say that, Cecilia, I was merely aiding you in thinking joined-up..."

"Actually I wasn't" she said coolly. "Besides, the only way we could test that is if we could test the blood while it was still inside a witch or wizard, which we obviously can't. Or...oh hang on, I've just thought of something..." she quickly went to the box of equipment stored underneath the table.

"I'm going to set up the other microscope. It has a digital imager so I can see the nucleus in the lymphocyte and the mitochondrion I saw just now."

When she was ready she instructed Snape to try the same transfiguration spell as before. The results were incredible. The mitochondrion swelled as if absorbing something, presumably energy. Almost at the same time, Cecilia saw the nucleus in the lymphocyte darken, as if performing mitosis and become pale again. But the cell was not ready to reproduce yet; it was not at the correct stage. But by darkening, the chromosomes in the nucleus must have...changed position...so the DNA must have...rearranged itself...

"What was the spell supposed to do," said Cecilia slowly. "If you'd used it on me, what would have I become?"

"A sticky mess on the floor, because you are a muggle and you are weak," said Snape bluntly. "But if you were a wizard, that spell would have transformed you into a rabbit...what is it? You seem all...agitated..."

"I think I have it," said Cecilia. "And if I'm right, then so are you about muggles..." She turned the eyepiece towards him.

"Can you perform that same spell and look down the microscope? You need to look at the crosshair for the lymphocyte and the small lens at the top for the mitochondrion..."

"The only way I can do that is if I dislocate my arm," he said icily. "Which I am very much prepared to do for the sake of your science, Cecilia, but if you can think of another way, I'd me most obliged."

"Be sarcastic all you like," said Cecilia. "I'm giving you a chance to prove your disparaging comments about muggles true. Now, I know spells can reflect off mirrors," she reached back down into her equipment box.

"If I angle this right, you should be able to get the spell to the right angle for the sample," she tilted it to one side, ignoring his narrowing eyes.

"Right, the same again, and this time, the spell should hit the sample in the right place." Snape inclined his head towards the microscope, glancing up at her doubtfully.

"Lapineverto" he said and, as before, lilac sparks flashed out of the end of his wand. Cecilia looked at him intently. An aeon passed until he spoke.

"Fascinating..."

"Did you see it?" Cecilia hopped from one foot to another, not dissimilar to Dobby in her room first thing in a morning.

"The nucleus in the lymphocyte performed mitosis shortly after the mitochondrion absorbed the energy. Is that what you saw?" He looked across at her from the microscope eyepiece. She nodded. 

"Now, if we try the others," she said. "You said if that had been me, I would be a sticky mess on the floor. Shall we see what would happen to my lymphocytes?"

She stepped forward between Snape and the microscope as he stood aside, and leaned over to replace the sample. 

"Lapineverto."

Slowly, Cecilia nodded.

"The lymphocytes, in fact the leukocytes too have completely broken up...they're...mush..."

She pulled away from the sample. Almost imperceptible to the naked eye, if she hadn't noticed before, was a tiny white patch. Under the microscope it represented a few thousand cells. She scanned the rest of the sample.

Lo and behold, there were also tiny white patches. She looked back through the microscope and moved the sample underneath to where the white patches were. The cells were the same as those she saw before with the cell walls collapsed.

"Look," she said. "Look at my sample. You were right, muggles are weaker. This is the effect of magic on muggle tissue samples. The DNA in wizard samples changes so you change with the spell. For muggles, the mitochondria don't seem to accommodate the energy and the cells it controls are completely destroyed..."

Snape examined the samples again. Eventually he spoke.

"It's not often you allow me to be right, Cecilia. I will take it as a compliment. So, we now have scientific evidence of the adverse effects of magic on muggles." Cecilia nodded.

"We need to continue the tests, with different types of spell. It's amazing, though." She approached Snape, and looked down at his hand, in which he still held his wand.

"You say the spell...the energy is transferred through your wand to the person...or in this case the sample..." Without thinking, she took it from him and held it. His face turned to Cornish granite as he watched her hold his wand.

"It's strange to think...wands specifically for their owner...I mean..." she swished it as if she were Tinkerbell in a pantomime. "To me, in my hands...it's just wood and core...the atoms making up the molecules of wood; protein, cellulose, glucose in the solidified sap, all atoms...to you..." she looked back at Snape, "you can change the whole world..." She took in his expression and knew she had overstepped the mark.

"That's very philosophical, Mrs Frobisher," he said icily. "I'll have that back thank you," he said, swiping it from her hand as she extended it towards him.

"I cannot believe we are the only people to investigate this," she said, changing the subject. "If you agree Severus, I think the best course of action would be to carry on with these experiments, perhaps to see the effects of potions on the cells? It would be good to see the effects of Veritaserum on the blood sample, see what might have happened to me if my metabolism hadn't have slowed down."

"Very well," he said, but not as coldly as last time. "I will bring out a selection which has different effects. If magic interacts with the DNA we will be able to see to what extent. However I will not be able to continue with this work until Sunday afternoon."

And without waiting for a reply, he glanced between his wand and Cecilia, and stalked out of the classroom.

Back to the good old days then, thought Cecilia, as she leaned back over the microscope and began to make a sketch of the cells...

88888888

Most of Saturday Cecilia spent in the library again. She had spoken to Madam Pince that morning about the types of books she was looking for and she gave Cecilia a set of books covered in dust which she had removed from a high bookshelf in the restricted section. It had taken her three sets of ladders to fetch them.

Cecilia had asked why she hadn't used magic to remove them, and Madam Pince explained that some magic spells can interact with the magic contained on the pages, with disastrous results. She went on to describe the health and safety exam that you had to pass to become a librarian in a wizard library and how, unless you knew what you were doing, selecting a book from a shelf might result in loss of limb.

It was quite tedious sitting there, reading through the information on many of the pages. She knew she must persevere; when she had originally begun, in the summer, she had found all of the wizard books fascinating. Now, she was just trying to search for specific things, such as any mention of genetics, inheritance and Raymond Lully. And what else would she be doing anyway? She couldn't carry out the blood sample analyses without Snape.

Taking a bite of her sandwich salvaged from Friday's supper roll and some cheese that had been put out for breakfast in the Great Hall she mused at the scale of her task. She must get through these; she'd been through all the other books Madam Pince had obligingly looked out for her, and had been most patient with her sitting there looking through the work, often long after everyone else had gone.

As she turned the pages, looking across the lines of the text, Cecilia mused at how much easier her task would be with a scanner of sorts, something handheld, not complicated, to look for particular words. It certainly would save her a lot of time, though she supposed such a device had probably never been needed until now. She expected there was possibly a spell that wizards could use to do that for them, health and safety, permitting of course.

Several hours later, and she had finished the second of the three volumes. To keep herself entertained, Cecilia had planned and designed her scanner, complete with the colours of the outer casing and eventual retail price. That's how bored she was with not a hint of anything medicinal, biological or Lullyish in sight.

By the time she reached the second chapter in the third volume, Madam Pince came across and told her she was closing the library; it was half past ten.

"Would it be OK to borrow this? It would be really useful to finish it," said Cecilia earnestly. "I won't damage it or anything," she added.

"I'll tell you what, I'll just get rid of these few students, and you can stay; I'll leave you with the key and you can lock up. I'm afraid I can't stay tonight, I have to Floo to my sister's because my mother is not well. Would that be OK with you, Cecilia? I'd prefer it if these books didn't leave the library, they are the only ones of their kind."

Cecilia nodded, and glanced at the group of students who Madam Pince was heading towards the door. Hermione was amongst them, and when she noticed Cecilia she smiled and walked over to her.

"Have you been here all day? You look awful, really tired,"

"Thank you Hermione, I'll take that as a compliment," she said, trying to ignore the way the girl automatically assumed an adult role in their conversations.

"How's the schoolwork going? What work have you got on at the moment?" She glanced down at the books Hermione had under her arm.

"Arithmancy essay for Monday, potions and Muggle Studies for Tuesday, of course. Oh and I'm helping Ron with his Divination. A load of tosh if you ask me, but I think both he and Harry thought it was an easy option. If you like though, I could stay and help you with whatever you're doing," she said hopefully, glancing at the huge book open on the desk behind Cecilia.

"Thank you for the kind offer Hermione, but I won't keep you. It shouldn't take me long to finish now." Hermione turned to go.

"Goodnight Mrs Frobisher," she said as she left. Madam Pince handed her a set of keys.

"This is for the restricted section and that is for the main door. Are you OK with that, Cecilia?"

"Fine," she said, "Thank you Irma, I'm very grateful."

"My room's round the corner from yours, next to Professor McGonagall, if you could just slip them under the door, I'd be much obliged. Goodnight"

"Of course, goodnight," she said, as Madam Pince turned out of the door and left, towards the main first floor. Cecilia returned to the table where the third volume lay open with an inch-thickness of pages on the left-hand side already done and another four to go. She sighed inwardly and resigned herself to the task.

There must be something here, she said, as the lights from the candles cast shadows across the pages. Somewhere here there will be something I can use. She glanced across at her notebook, the next black page flattened against the rest where she had been leaning on it during the day.

I'd be really happy if I could write something on you, she thought, glancing across at it. Then I wouldn't feel as if today was wasted. She turned over to the next page and began to glance across it, settling back into the routine she'd had during the long day. Just then, a figure by the library door caught her eye.

"Hello," she called. "Who is it?"

When no-one answered she began to get up, and made her way to the door. She peered round, but couldn't see anyone. She turned back.

"Hello Lady," said Dobby, making Cecilia jump.

"Dobby!" she gasped, and stepped back, trying to regain her composure. "Are you looking for me?" He nodded, and held out his hand. In it was a sandwich, which he handed to Cecilia.

"Dobby spoke to Miss Granger, a friend of Harry Potter. Dobby told her that Dobby was looking for Lady, and Miss Granger told Dobby, that Lady had been in the library all the day and had not had anything to eat. So Dobby said to himself, Dobby is making Lady a sandwich because whatever Lady is doing in the library it must be important for her to stay all day with no food and if it is important it is for Harry Potter. Dobby wants to know that Lady is all right..." he looked down, shyly.

"Thank you Dobby," said Cecilia. "That's very kind of you. You didn't have to but, I'm glad you did..." She placed the sandwich next to her notebook.

"Lady is well, isn't she?" said Dobby. "Dobby still comes to draw Lady's bath, every day!"

"I know you do Dobby, and I am most grateful." Instead of returning to her chair, she brought the sandwich Dobby had given her and sat cross-legged on the parquet floor so they were face to face.

"What's troubling you Dobby? You seem anxious?" She tore one half of the sandwich in half again, and offered it to him. He looked surprised, but took it anyway, his ears perking up with delight.

"Nothing, Lady. Except...Lady hasn't been to see Dobby, or the other house elves in the kitchen for such a long time. Dobby wonders whether Lady has been offended..." He looked mournfully at her, and Cecilia smiled.

"No, not at all," said Cecilia, as kindly as she could. "You know I am working with Professor Snape...and Harry," she added, seeing his eyes glaze over in fear. "If we are to get to the bottom of everything we need to, we have to work hard. And of course I have to teach students. Professor Dumbledore believes it to be of great benefit to the students." She reached over and patted his hand. "I promise to visit soon; I enjoy visiting you all as well, you know." Dobby's face perked up again.

"Does Lady mean that?"

"Of course, Dobby, I'm looking forward to ironing some sheets, I wouldn't miss it."

"Then Dobby will tell Winky and Bingo..." he began to jump around, sandwich still in hand. "I will let Lady finish her important work for Harry Potter." And with that, he skipped out of the door of the library. Cecilia sat where she was for a few minutes, and finished her sandwich before returning to the table.

What an extraordinary creature she mused, as she glanced at the pages again, always so pleased to see her, to do anything for her.

As she scanned the next page, a word caught her eye. The one that followed it was of more use and she wondered what it meant… "Reciprocator". And beside it, the word, "Lully". At last! All those long hours spent trawling through two useless volumes; this was finally the reward...

She read the paragraph which contained "Lully". Try not to get your hopes up; she told herself, it might not be anything to do with Raymond Lully. The paragraph mentioned something about the employment of a person or persons called Oswald T…then she couldn't read some of it…then a date, 1956, and the name "Lully".

She recalled the alumni entry for a Raymond Lully...who had died in 1956. But what did "Reciprocator" mean?

At a loss, she copied down the paragraph, making a note underneath to ask Severus or Poppy about it. She was just about to go onto the next sentence when she heard a noise.

"Dobby?" she said, looking up. There was no-one there.

"I can't come down to the kitchens tonight, I've got to finish this," she said looking back down.

"And what would a filthy squib like you want to be going down to the kitchens for anyway?" said a voice like a silken dagger from in front of her. "To poison the food? We'd better stop you then, because that's what will happen if you touch it with your filthy squib hands..."

Cecilia looked up quickly. Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, and behind him stood two other Slytherin students whom she recognised as the two who had followed Draco out of her classroom in their first lesson.

"And just what are you three students doing out of your beds at this late hour? Mr Malfoy?" she said, with all the courage she could muster. Despite them being only children, they were far bigger than she was, and there was a true hint of menace in Draco's voice...

"We could ask you the same thing, Mrs Frobisher..._don't_ move..." said Draco mockingly as she took a step towards the door.

"You don't like wands, do you Mrs Frobisher?" He laughed, as he followed her line of sight to Crabbe and Goyle's wands, which were aimed directly at her.

"It's not the wands," she said defiantly, looking back at Draco. "Wands don't kill people, it's the wizards behind them that do."

"Strong sentiments indeed, for a filthy squib, but who said anything about killing? Tell me, Mrs Frobisher, was your husband ashamed of you, powerful wizard like him, that his wife was a damp squib? Did you hide it from him, then spring it on him later? I bet that was a shock. He really must have loved you for it not to bother him…" Crabbe and Goyle laughed at what they thought was her discomfort.

"I don't have the first idea what you're talking about Mr Malfoy, so I suggest you, Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle return to your dormitories." She tried again to take a step towards the library door. This time Draco pulled out his wand.

"Don't make me angry," he said threateningly, frowning at her. "You wouldn't like it when I'm angry..."

"Why?" said Cecilia, laughing in spite of the situation. Are you going to get all muscley and green, and get too big for your robe, she thought to herself. She stopped laughing when Draco held the tip of his wand at her throat.

"Don't find it so funny now, do you, squib?" he looked down at the book on the desk. "What's this, light reading?" When she didn't answer, he looked back at her.

"I said, squib, what's this?"

"It's a book, I was reading it for historical value." At least it wasn't a lie.

"And what do we have here?" He reached down and pulled her small canvas bag from of the floor. There was very little in it, but what there was clattered all over the table. Her diary fell onto the floor, as did her powder compact, a present from Tim on their first wedding anniversary. She winced as the glass smashed.

"Just a load of junk. Nothing properly squibbish in here. So, where is it?"

"Where's what?" she said, in half exasperated tones. "What is it you want, Mr Malfoy?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Mrs Frobisher. It might work on our dear head of house, but not with me. Your wand, Mrs Frobisher. The fake wand that squibs have to carry as a mark of their disability? I want to see what it looks like."

"I don't have one," she laughed. "Dumbledore has it," she added quickly. Was that right? Did squibs have to carry a fake wand? If it were true, it sounded quite insulting, but she'd have to play along just in case.

"So you see, Mr Malfoy, there's nothing here for you. Why don't you and your friends go off to bed, you've had your fun, and it was all a big joke." She attempted a smile despite her growing terror.

"On the contrary," said Draco, circling the edge of the table until he stood on the same side as her and began edging her towards a bookcase. "I haven't given up yet. I'm still going to have my fun, and teach you a lesson too." Cecilia's eyes darted towards Crabbe and Goyle who were also heading her way.

My god, she thought, they're only children. But they're terrifying. Imagine if I had been seen by Death Eaters that night I followed Severus, I think I would have died of fright long before they would have done anything to me. Whatever happens now, I'm personally going to kiss Hagrid and that birds-nest of a beard of his for dragging me back.

"So, Mrs Frobisher, if that's your real name. What is your name, by the way?" She looked between all three boys. They were clearly enjoying this. She was determined not to be scared; she knew that as a squib they couldn't hurt her, they were only trying to humiliate her. They wouldn't use magic. Or at least, they probably wouldn't...

"Elizabeth," said Cecilia quickly. "And you're right, this isn't my real name, not my maiden name, anyway."

"Which was...?"

"Mitchell. When I met my husband, I obviously took his name. I mean, you're right of course." She hung he head slightly as if out of humiliation. "It's dreadful being a squib. I was the only squib in the village…" There, that hamming up seemed to knock the wind out of Draco's sails. But not for long, though.

"So…Elizabeth," he said, in a sarcastic tone, looking her up and down. "Who gave you permission to wear wizard robes? You know you're not allowed, and yet...you do..." He pointed his wand down to the clasp of her robe and flicked his wrist slightly. The metal bar slipped out of the loop and the fabric of her best Emaness robe, her only Emaness robe, gathered round her feet.

"There, that's better. Looking more and more like the muggle you're supposed to be now. You know, I actually feel sorry for muggles? I mean they can't help it". Draco repositioned the wand by her throat again, and she knew her eyes were betraying the terror within.

"They go around in their own little lives, oblivious to the real world. Yet you, of a wizard family have the audacity to come to Hogwarts and try to tell us that muggles are just like us." Cecilia glanced down as something ran over her foot. It was a mouse.

Draco looked down too, and pointed his wand. A stream of yellow light rushed out of the end of his wand and Cecilia gasped: the mouse squeaked with fear and was dead.

"We obviously can't do that to you, much as we'd like," he looked into her shocked face, leeringly. "But when we've finished, you're going to wish we had, Elizabeth Mitchell..." He poked his wand firmer into Cecilia's throat. She swallowed.

"Finished what? Mr Malfoy, I suggest you stand away from that member of staff." Cecilia looked between Draco's head and the door. Severus Snape stood in the doorway, his wand raised.

"I noticed you were out of your beds so I suggest, unless you wish to spend the rest of the term in detention every evening with the headmaster, you return there. That goes for you two," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing towards Crabbe and Goyle. With one final look, Draco reluctantly lowered his wand and, looking between Cecilia and Snape, said, "Don't know what you see in her, sir," before leaving the library closely followed by his friends.

He glanced down the corridor before approaching Cecilia. She was shaking, her knees unwilling to hold her up any more. He looked her up and down before offering her his hand, but instead she threw her arms round him, and began to sob heavily. Heaven knows she wouldn't have chosen Snape for a comforting hug, but she was hardly thinking about anything other than what might have happened if he hadn't arrived.

Not knowing what to do, Snape stroked her hair vaguely, until the sobs became less intense sniffs, and Cecilia stepped away, wiping her face with her hand.

"Dobby apparently, was concerned for your welfare. I did in fact warn you against telling the students."

"I didn't," said Cecilia, between ebbing sniffs. "I don't know how they knew. They seemed to think my husband was some powerful wizard..." she sniffed some more and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

"Thank god, Severus," she hugged him tightly. "I'm so glad you came to find me. I don't know what they would have done, otherwise."

Whereas I do, thought Snape to himself. Malfoy appears to have become somewhat proficient in his father's ways...

"What on earth possessed you to remain in the library? Madam Pince had already left the castle."

"I was looking for Lully," said Cecilia, stepping towards the table. "I'd just found him when they arrived. You weren't going to be available tonight, Severus, you told me, so I thought I'd use the time wisely." She stepped away from Snape and looked at him curiously.

"How did you know where I was?"

"I didn't. I was carrying out my usual evening duties and realised the students were out of bed. They were probably looking for some sport. Then that idiot house elf found me. I knew sooner or later they'd come after you." He rolled his eyes at the look of shock on her face.

"Of course, Cecilia," he said coldly. "It's like putting a pack of hunting dogs in with a fox, or another analogy muggles would be familiar with. You seemed to have fielded it well, Elizabeth Mitchell, and not given anything away."

Cecilia continued to stare a little longer, then finally nodded. That was the most important thing of course. That's why she was there. And just then, a plan crystallised in her mind. She took a few steps over to the desk, treading on the glass that was her compact. She looked down.

"Well, it's only a possession," she said bravely, and looked down at the book, pretending to leaf through the pages. "It's in here somewhere…Lully.."

"Did it mean something to you? The compact?" Snape bent down and picked up a couple of the broken pieces. Cecilia looked up.

"Tim gave it to me, not long after we were married. All in the past now, it's only a possession…look," she said pointing to the page. "Does this mean anything to you?"

Snape glanced across the page.

"Lully….Oswald T. …1956…1956…"

"What?" she said, seeing his eyes glaze over. "Is that year important? It matches the death date of a Raymond Lully in the Hogwarts almanac, but...?" she prompted.

"The year of the goblin riots," said Snape. "You know about them. However, Oswald T.; the name is not familiar to me. It would have been better with a surname. However we are in the right era if it is the same Lully from Poppy's grandfather's notes."

"What about "Reciprocator"? Does that mean anything to you?"

"Not in the slightest," said Snape slowly. "However someone from the Order may know. I will make enquiries at the next meeting."

"Blast," said Cecilia, defeated. "Then I've still got the rest of the book to go though," she said, sitting back down, "there still might be something." Snape looked at her aghast.

"You don't seriously mean to tell me that you intend to remain here? You are shaken, Cecilia, it is far better if you return to your room, I feel." She shook her head.

"I intend to finish the job before our work tomorrow. If I give up now the likes of your students will have won. I will do it, Severus," she said, in response to his look of disbelief. "If you want to make sure I'm safe you may join me." She intended it to be a rebuttal and was astonished when Snape sat down beside her.

"I feel it best to warn you that I will not be able to continue with our research as we intended tomorrow," he said. "Perhaps it would be wise to return to bed; then you will have the whole day tomorrow to complete it." She shook her head again.

"I have plenty of other things to carry on with tomorrow, Severus," she said, looking down at the page. "Like preparing the blood samples for a DNA test. I was going to suggest it to you tomorrow, but seeing as you won't be there, it might as well be now."

"Continue…"

She now had his full attention, and she looked at him with determination.

"If we return to our original hypothesis, that being a wizard, or not, is determined by genetics, which also seems to be supported by historical evidence, it would be helpful to send the samples for DNA testing." She exhaled, congratulating herself on choosing her word carefully. Nowhere had she mentioned anything about her leaving Hogwarts. She decided to add the details later.

"In order to do this, I need to make sure the samples are selected carefully from the original donors, to give us the full range of results."

"You mentioned before Cecilia that other tissue could be used, such as hair? If I remember correctly, a few weeks ago…"

Cecilia thought back. Yes…he was quite right. When he walked in on her taking a bath. When she'd followed him and spent the night at Hagrid's.

"If you feel hair would be less risky to wizards, then this would work."

"It makes little difference," said Snape. "There are far greater potions that could be made using hair samples than blood, to cause a wizard to do any number of things. Blood is merely superstition to the less enlightened magical beings. However…I feel from the point of view of the donors, and from those closest to young Potter," Cecilia noticed him flinch, "that hair would be less controversial." Cecilia nodded, and returned to the book. He stared at her.

"What?" she said, after a few minutes.

"Do you still intend to finish those tonight?"

"Yes, Severus, I do," she said stubbornly.

"In that case I believe the best course of action is for me to remain with you through this pointless task in order to maintain your wellbeing."

88888888

It was Sunday evening. Cecilia had finally gone to bed at 3 o'clock, having insisted that she went through every last page of the book. Snape had sat steadfastly next to her, glancing towards the library door periodically, something which Cecilia felt was more for her benefit than for any actual purpose.

He'd made the effort to walk her back to her room, along the corridors but, following his brief suggestion that her presence was too irresistible to Malfoy, he'd made no other mention of the incident. Neither had Cecilia, who had spent most of the day writing a plan of what she intended to do with the blood samples next, and a brief note about DNA testing, with plausible outcomes.

It struck Cecilia how extraordinary it was, as she dressed ready to meet Tonks in the Three Broomsticks, that their professional relationship was so compatible, when their cultures and outlooks were so different. She knew she wasn't trying especially hard to get along with him, and she got the impression the feeling was mutual. It was like the ability for bees to fly; the physical laws precluded it...yet they flew...

She smoothed down her long-sleeved shirt across her hips; it fitted well now, not like it used to, when there was more room. Cecilia hadn't got much choice though; she hadn't planned on evenings out when she packed all those months ago, and it was either the blouse and a pair of plain black trousers or her hideous sundress and a cardigan.

Brushing her long hair, she was actually quite glad she could leave it loose for a while; normally she tied it back when she taught, and it was impractical to be down while she worked. Looking in the mirror above her desk, she smiled to herself. Could be worse she thought, considering everything.

As she teased out the knots in her hair, she wondered if she should tell someone where she was going. Snape had been quite annoyed when she had left before the start of the school year with Tonks, yet she had felt far more threatened by the actions of Malfoy and his cronies last night that had taken place inside the castle than anything that could have happened when she was in the presence of a powerful witch like her.

Pushing some long strands of hair behind her ears, she bent over the desk and opened one of the drawers of her desk, and pulled out some large gold galleons, glancing over their surface as she pocketed them inside her brown cord jacket. For their size they should have been renamed quinquerimes, she thought to herself. They were far too large to be just galleons.

With one last look in the mirror, and hearing the school clock effect nine sonorations, she headed towards the door, then paused. Maybe she should leave a note for Dobby, just in case he decides to worry again, and disturb Snape.

She hurriedly dashed off a few lines on the back of some parchment on her desk telling the house elf not to worry but she was on an errand for Harry, and then left, hurrying down the corridor towards the secret passage.

The autumn air was moist on her face as she appeared on the other side of the castle wall. She looked up as the castle briefly, taking in the majesty of the architecture, and how grand it looked as lights shone out of the windows here and there, crowned by the borrowed light of the full moon.

What would she be doing were she at home, she wondered while she crossed the castle grounds towards Hogsmeade, as she had done with Tonks just over a month ago.

Probably sitting in the Hagley Arms with Libby, while Derek babysat, with Tamara and Emma, or back at her place for a girl's night in deciding on whether it was going to be a Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp night...

She would probably be wearing a shimmery top; new from M and S yesterday, or a simple dress. Well, that had been what she used to wear for girly nights when she had been with Tim; after their separation, and his death, she had barely been out of the house, let alone out with her friends.

At least wizards and witches could change their appearance, which begged the question, if they could do that, why did they need to go to the trouble of buying clothes at all when spells existed to permanently alter them?

As she walked towards the ever-nearing lights of Hogsmeade through the chilly evening air, she considered science and magic in the context of clothing and concluded that although wizards could make things happen by magic, science was full of far more wonder when you considered what had to come together to make fabrics. Even some muggle people would have trouble believing that some of them originally derived from oil.

It took Cecilia almost an hour to reach the Three Broomsticks. As she pushed open the door, the handful of occupants stared in her direction and she suddenly felt far less confident about her expedition away from the relative security of the castle. Her immediate regret was that she hadn't worn her robe, and it stuck out like a sore thumb.

She surveyed the pub and inhaled with trepidation: No Tonks. Quickly she moved towards the bar where the landlady whom she recognised from before, smiled at her. Cecilia stuck her hand into her pocket.

"One butterbeer," she said, as the name of the wizard beverage appeared in her mind. "Er, could you tell me whether Nymphadora Tonks has been in tonight?"

"Ooh," said Madam Rosmerta. "She won't be happy to hear you've used her first name." She reached under the bar for a glass, then looked back up examining Cecilia's face.

"I know you, you were with Tonks a few weeks ago," Madam Rosmerta pulled the malt-coloured drink into the glass, where it foamed.

"Have you seen her? We were meant to be meeting up, after my undercover operation," added Cecilia, glancing at her clothes as if to indicate she didn't normally dress like this.

"Not tonight," she said. "Two sickles," she added. Cecilia pulled out a galleon from her coat pocket.

"You haven't got anything smaller, have you?" she asked. "Otherwise you'll take all my change..."

"Sorry," replied Cecilia apologetically, and Madam Rosmerta shook her head as she counted out the coins. Just then, another witch came behind the bar.

"You're not waiting for Tonks, are you?" she said, glancing at Cecilia, who was about to leave. Cecilia nodded.

"She Floo'd in earlier, asked me to pass a message on to the witch in the muggle clothes disguise," continued the witch. "She said she was sorry, but something urgent came up that she can't get out of tonight. She said she'd make it up to you though."

"Thanks," said Cecilia, her hopes falling. She had been looking forward to seeing Tonks that night, to catch up on everything. Find out how everything was going at Grimmauld Place and the Ministry. To get off her chest the events of last night.

Taking her drink and sitting down in a high-backed bench, she decided to finish it in any case and head back. At least she could get a good night's rest before teaching the next day, and at least she'd had some practical experience on her own in the wizard world...

She contemplated the lessons of the previous week. Most of them had gone well, she reflected. The fifth years were getting on well with their historical scientists, as were most of the lower years. She felt that giving the sixth and seventh years more investigation-based topics would keep them busier, but what had been getting her down was their sheer appetite for work. Often she would be shattered because of the preparation for those lessons.

Lost in thought for a good three-quarters of a pint it wasn't until the someone who had sidled up beside her five minutes beforehand spoke that she realised they were there.

"Good evening," said Snape, looking down at Cecilia. "Waiting for someone?"

"Severus!" she exclaimed, truly surprised. "Er, yes...but...well this is a surprise...yes...I was waiting for Tonks...we'd arranged for a birthday drink...but it turns out she can't make it." She waited for him to make a disparaging remark about either Tonks or herself for leaving the castle and was taken aback when none came.

She was even more taken aback when Snape enquired whether she would like company, proceeding to buy two more butterbeers when she agreed.

"So, you're going to be...how old tomorrow, did you say?" he said, setting down the drinks on the table.

"I didn't," said Cecilia. "Twenty nine, if you must know," she added, looking down.

"Really? That does surprise me," said Snape. "I took you for much younger, Cecilia."

Cecilia was speechless; she didn't know what to say.

"Was that supposed to be a complement, or a dig at my ignorance?" she asked, guardedly. Snape looked at her in surprise.

"I believed you to be younger, Cecilia, however I don't recall mentioning anything about your cognitive skills which are exceptional for anyone, regardless of magical ability," he added.

In anyone else, Cecilia would have taken the blatant praise as an attempt at a chat-up line. But it felt different with Snape. From her experience, he did not say things lightly, and it was rare that he complimented her at all. All she could do was not to analyse.

...and the evening progressed...

If their conversation was a train, its journey would have been thus:

Starting out with work, as Snape made himself comfortable next to her, Cecilia discovered that he had not got much further with Lully; Snape explained he had made an effort to pursue Lully in the official magical history records at the ministry of Magic, along with anything connected with an Oswald and also "Reciprocator", however the searches often took a long time to complete, despite Sturgis Podmore overseeing them.

It took in medium term research plans and made a whistle-stop tour of science where Cecilia described what enzymes did in chemical reactions in the body, and Snape added cross-links to potions, hypothesising that if molecules existed in the potion ingredients, why wouldn't they react in a similar way in such reactions?

Another brief stop was made at the concept of DNA testing, which Snape agreed was worth considering, and Cecilia smiled contentedly, knowing that as long as the line of argument was logical, he could give no just reason why, eventually, she could not return home and get Nick to test them for her.

Had anyone to whom Cecilia and Snape were strangers looked in on the course of the conversation that evening, they would not have suspected that these two people were anything other than close friends. It had crossed Cecilia's mind more than once that they got on well together providing the topics they discussed strictly adhered to research work, science, potions or teaching.

A few butterbeers later and a couple of hours having passed since Snape had joined her and, besides themselves and Madam Rosmerta, the Three Broomsticks was empty.

Cecilia had even forgotten her disappointment at Tonks not appearing as she and Snape discussed the relative merits of their own personal former teachers. She told him how frightening Simmonds was when she and Libby were eleven, and Snape told her how Binns had been teaching the history of magic at Hogwarts for over eighty years of his life and nearly fifty years of his death.

He told how he had managed to pass his history of magic exam by studying solidly for six weeks in the summer using notes he had made in the year above's classes using a quill he had bewitched into a million-word dictation quill using his own recipe, meaning he was always a year ahead and that he had more time to concentrate on potions in his seventh year.

"So there is some practical use to magic then," laughed Cecilia as she "other than just to make your lives easier..."

"You would only say that from the point of view of a scientist. Muggles need science, that is clear. But it is your lives, in the same way that magic is ours."

Cecilia paused. She knew they were straying outside of unspoken areas of agreed conversation which could be dangerous. If he had been a different person...a muggle...she would have little reason to doubt his debating skills. As he was...

"It's true," she said, spinelessly. "One day, if you're up for it, in the future when this is all over I'll arrange for you to visit a muggle school. Then you can see what it's like..." She paused, as his expression froze. Oh no…

"What ceases to amaze me Cecilia is your optimism that this will all come to an end. If you only knew the power of the Dark Lord, I am not sure you would be so quick to box up your generalisations..."

"That's fair enough," she said, lying through her teeth. And there it is, that something, thought Cecilia. The thing that prevents Snape from being able to go that one step further. To be able to meet others on their level. Not just with me, she added to herself, she'd seen it with other staff members and the students too. As if something is holding him back...

...and just as the thought entered her mind, Snape stood up quickly, and glanced at Cecilia urgently. The train had reached the end of the line.

"I'm sorry Cecilia, I must leave. Order business," he said simply. "I did explain yesterday, Cecilia. However my presence is required imminently, so I am afraid you will have to find your own way back to the castle..."

Cecilia watched him as he retreated from the pub. Why would he go so suddenly? What had she said?

Then she realised he had been holding his left forearm again, just as he had done before...the night he met the Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest.

"Not this time," she thought to herself, as she watched him retreat. "I want to know what you're up to..."

Buoyed by alcohol in the butterbeers and disregarding her own mental caveats which were now jumping up and down metaphorically in her mind, Cecilia stood up and followed Snape through the Three Broomsticks' door and down towards the Forbidden Forest...

88888888

...thirty minutes later an outraged Cecilia was crouching behind a rocky basalt outcrop just on the outskirts of the Forest, listening in fascinated horror as Snape participated in what she assumed was a Death Eater meeting.

She had followed Snape as far as she'd dared, which was far further than she would ever have done if she had not had a drink, and she had overheard a circle of wizards in masks talking.

Inchwise, Cecilia crept forward until she could detect what was being said. Not much of it meant anything to her, but she listened anyway, in order to gain enough evidence to take to Dumbledore.

She could barely believe it. Less than an hour ago, she was sitting in a pub having a discussion with him about science and magic, and now...Snape was telling them all about what lessons the students had been taught, when various professors would be absent from Hogwarts, even Harry's whereabouts at certain times in the week.

She wanted to call out and stop Snape from talking; try to stem the flow of treachery from his lips. After all she had done, more than some would have, she had put her heart and soul into their research, only for Snape to hand it all on a plate to the enemy. If only she could hear all of their conversation, then at least she might be able to understand some of it...

"...as you very well know Lucius, the Dark Lord is unable to be present..."

"...nor I fear too many of his followers..."

"...yet the Dark Mark burns, Crabbe, you know that not one of us can withstand its beckoning..."

"...I am here..."

"...Avery, how kind to drop by...should we take from your absence that you have been intending to lie to us..._don't_...say another word...I can see into your deceitful mind..."

That expression, thought Cecilia...the way that one of hem had spoken...why did it sound familiar?

"...Lucius, please..."

"...your father only did so much to hide the trail; we really thought you could do better..."

"...but the manuscripts...when the blood traitor died..."

"...yes...?"

The last voice...to Cecilia it sounded like a woman...

"...we couldn't find them..."

"...we've been over and over this, Avery...next time, you will be answering to the Dark Lord, consider this a dress rehearsal..."

The one called Avery fell to his knees. The Death Eater called Lucius began to torture him.

She heard Snape utter something under his breath, wand in hand. Within seconds, Avery was on the floor, writing in agony and screaming...

"...do not fail this time, Avery..."

"...how long do we have?"

"...we are far from a connection..."

No...screamed a voice in Cecilia's head. Severus, what are you saying? Don't tell them that...

"...it must be sooner..."

"...is all prepared?..."

"...Halloween...we attack then..."

"...more casualties for their Pleez Force to investigate, I fear..."

With the last statement, the Death Eater laughed, and was joined by the rest. What was that, thought Cecilia, something about an attack? She swallowed, and sank back behind the rock.

He'd said something about the police...she thought back to a conversation she'd had, on her first day at Grimmauld Place...they'd said wizard police were called Aurors...that means...

...they were planning to go after _muggles_ on Halloween...the bright lights of the image she had seen of Tonks's work...the twisted face of the man before he died...they were planning muggle baiting...she didn't know how, but she had to stop them...

Before she had time to think, she realised that the group of Death Eaters were moving towards her. She could hear a thump-thump across the ground, getting nearer and nearer...

Dizzy with rising fear, she wondered whether she could risk a look. Maybe they were heading in a different direction...

...slowly she got to her knees and turned...

...to see a huge dog standing before her, baring its teeth; saliva dripping from its mouth...

Forgetting the predicament that was approaching behind three feet of basalt, she stared at the dog. Its eyes looked glazed as if mad; its fur filthy and matted. Before she could decide what to do, it growled again, opening its jaws...

...Cecilia crouched further down, looking at the ground, waiting for it to strike...

...then she felt a sharp tugging on her left arm...

Cecilia opened her eyes. Sirius Black was pulling her by the wrist.

"Come on, quickly you fool, or there won't be time..." he urged gruffly, pulling her up from her half crouched position. She had no choice but to do so and run in the direction he was pulling her, much quicker than she was prepared for and she stumbled forward.

Sirius pulled her up roughly, and her knees scraped the hard ground. He barely gave her time to balance before turning in the direction of the castle, leaving the voices of the Death Eaters behind her, the ground still uneven. It took everything Cecilia had to remain upright.

They ran up a hill, and were now quite far enough away from the Death Eaters that the rising panic in her chest had subsided. Sirius pulled her down crouching on the hard earth.

"Don't you realise how dangerous it is out here?" he said reprovingly, looking past the trees in the direction they had come. "All manner of things are lurking out here..."

Cecilia said nothing: her head was fuzzy; a combination of the effects of the butterbeer and the flight they had just made.

She tried to think. There was a dog...then Black...why is he here? She looked between her wrist and his hand, as Sirius watched out over the hillock. If I can just gauge when he is distracted, thought Cecilia, then I can get away...

Waiting a few seconds, she built up the courage to pull...he was looking further afield now, as if the Death Eaters had changed direction. Slowly, she was about to slip her wrist out of his grip, but she wasn't fast enough. Sirius spun round and grabbed it, looking at her with intent.

"Oh no you don't," he said, giving Cecilia a firm stare and ignoring her pleas to let go.

"Haven't you registered yet in your tiny mind anything I've been saying? Do you really think you can get past eight Death Eaters on your own?" He gestured in the direction he had just been looking.

"I don't care I..." she gasped, "...just let me go..." Ignoring her, Sirius gripped her wrist tighter. She winced.

"Come on, " he said, "We have to hide. There's no going back to the castle now..."

They rounded a hill at the back of the Castle grounds, hurrying further and faster away from it. Cecilia noticed as they passed, a path trailing in the direction of Hagrid's hut and she wished she had done what Severus had said earlier, returned to the castle, or at least gone and spoken to Hagrid.

Just as Cecilia thought she wouldn't be able to keep up with Sirius's pace any longer, he slowed as they neared a solitary tree, whose branches of the tree were swaying, as if caught by the wind. This struck Cecilia as odd because the night air was quite still.

Sirius stopped, and pulled his wand from his robe, pointing at the tree. "Immobilus", he said, and suddenly a dull ache of apprehension began to form in Cecilia's chest. Oh heavens, thought Cecilia, looking at it, then following her eyeline down to his arm. The last time she remembered seeing Sirius he was holding his wand...

"Come on," he said urgently. "Down there..." He gestured towards a small entrance between the roots of the tree. Cecilia froze. Sirius began to raise his wand again. On cue, the mournful wail of a wolf penetrated the air and he gave her a "told you so" look.

"Like I said, it's dangerous out here," he said menacingly, flicking his wand towards the hole. "Come on, quickly." Cecilia looked at it and took a step.

The only thing round here that is dangerous Black, is you she thought, walking towards the base of the tree, hopes diminishing of a last-minute getaway.

Sirius followed close behind her, edging her roughly inside when she hesitated. He stepped forward and led her down a small passage where thick and muscular roots protruding from the walls.

Once or twice Cecilia stumbled in the dark; Sirius pulling her up by the wrist which he still had firmly gripped firmly in his hand. Ahead of them was the light of an old house, and they entered a decrepit room, ancient furniture thick with dust and hung with cobwebs.

Cecilia shivered as logic pervaded her mind. If he was trying to keep her safe, she couldn't see how. They could easily have slipped back to the castle, or to Hagrid's hut. What was the reason for them coming to this old deserted house? Unless...

Urgent panic began to rise now, and Cecilia tried again to desperately yank her hand back from Sirius, heading towards the door and out the way they had just come in.

"Mrs Frobisher, that was extremely foolish," intoned Sirius, managing to get a grip on her hand as she attempted to leave. With his other hand he gripped his wand.

"Careful or I may have to use this." You coward, thought Cecilia, looking between the wand and his face as Sirius wrestled a firmer grip on gripping her by wrist again, and pulled her back through, throwing her onto the dusty floor. She fell heavily, grazing her legs.

"Get up, get up," said Sirius, wand still aloft, looking back out through the door of the room. The silence that reigned was interrupted by a mouse running over the floor. Raising his wand, a bolt of yellow light hit the mouse, and it died, just like the one that Draco Malfoy had killed. Cecilia looked open-mouthed at Sirius as realisation flooded her mind. She knew she'd recognised it. The light of the spell was the same light she remembered flashing through the Grimmauld Place kitchen...

"Rodents," he said simply. Then he saw the look of terror on Cecilia's face, and glanced between the tip of is wand then back at her. He lowered it.

Cecilia tried to make for the exit a second time, but this time Sirius was too quick, and grabbed her round the waist, wrestling her to the floor. She screamed, but he pushed her down, trying to cover her mouth with his hand. Cecilia bit it, hard.

"Ahhh!" yelled Sirius, letting her go. "You silly woman, what did you go and follow him for? How long do you think it would have been till they'd have found you, a minute?" he looked down at her crossly, rubbing his hand. "I save your life and this is the thanks I get?"

He began to pace across the entrance to the room, glancing across at her sporadically.

"But Severus..." she said, thinking about why she'd followed him. "He keeps rushing off...I thought he was doing work for the Order...but he's a Death Eater! We've got to tell Dumbledore before they act on his information..." Sirius looked at her, and continued pacing.

"Of course he's a Death Eater " said Sirius, still pacing. "And that's what I've been telling Dumbledore for ages: it's only a matter of time before he betrays us all..."

Cecilia said nothing. Dumbledore knew?

"Dumbledore knows?" she said, eventually. "He trusts him?" Sirius laughed, mockingly.

"That's Snivellus's saving grace, isn't it? A reformed Death Eater. A teacher at Hogwarts. Respectability. A double agent is what he is. On Dumbledore's side, supposedly."

Cecilia looked at the floor. So that was it, was it? A double agent. Feeding lies to the enemy to contain them; mislead them...unable to help that man Avery because so much was at stake...

Her mind tried to allocate this new piece of information into her picture of Snape. He was helping Dumbledore, not betraying them. She thought about everything that had gone on, his behaviour and how he'd acted. Now the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

Slowly, the tightness in her chest began to recede, and the memories of the evening, of their closeness that had made her feel like the traitor for doubting him. She glanced at Sirius.

"I've still got to get out of here, I need to warn Dumbledore. I heard them, heard what they said. There's going to be an attack at Halloween on muggles." As she spoke, she got up, and moved towards the door. Sirius looked at her and moved in front of her, looking her up and down.

"Sit," he ordered, pointing towards the broken piano stool. Cecilia stared back at him, glancing at his wand again.

"Sit down, Cecilia" he repeated, but this time his voice had softened.

"Why?"

"You can't leave yet, it wouldn't be safe.

"But the Death Eaters have gone now...they were waiting for one of their number...Avery...they've gone to London...to meet others...

"There are other things lurking around out there, my dear..."

"Like what? Werewolves?" she said, sceptically. He jerked his head back towards her; a look of shock crossed his face momentarily.

"Yes," he said simply. "We have to wait until dawn..."

"Well, if it's a choice of staying here with you, or facing imaginary werewolves, I think I'll take my chances with them, thanks." Cecilia sat down on the dusty piano stool, and folded her arms again.

"You really don't like me, do you?" Cecilia laughed, scornfully.

"Why do you say that, Black?" said Cecilia, throwing him a look of contempt. "What reason would I have? Now let me think! Could it be that the last time we saw each other, you were trying to do me in? Excuse me for inferring from your actions tonight that you weren't trying to finish the job!" She folded her arms tighter and glanced to one side. Sirius walked towards her.

"I can tell you've been around Snivellus," he retorted, "The sarcasm's catching..."

"No, that's me I'm afraid, a stupid muggle and whatever else you'd like to call me, it's got nothing to do with Severus." She looked back at Sirius. "Shame on you for being so rude," the teacher in her added. "Besides, until you explain to me firstly why you think I need your protection I'm not staying here another minute" Cecilia got to her feet, then paused.

"How come you knew where I was anyway? I thought you weren't able to leave Grimmauld Place? And what was that mangy dog doing there?"

He said nothing, looking down at the dusty floor.

"Well if you can't justify your kidnapping of me, Black, then I _am_ actually leaving..." she declared, taking the moral high ground and wondering whether he would call her bluff.

"How long do you think you could survive out there?" he said quietly, walking in front of her. "Do you know what will happen if a werewolf catches you?"

There was a long pause.

"Enlighten me..."

"They don't kill you straightaway," he said, his dark eyes shimmering in the half-light as he paced round her.

"First, when they've caught you, and I must say, I've never seen anything run as fast as a werewolf after its prey, it will paw you. And by that I don't mean in a soft fluffy animal way; the last time the Ministry found a person pawed by a werewolf it took them three days to identify the body..."

He stopped, taking in her dumbfounded expression. Werewolves didn't exist, she knew: Severus had told her that. So why did Black's story sound so real?

"Should that not kill you," he continued, continuing to pace round her, "then the werewolf tearing your throat out, or disembowelling you would quite possibly finish you off."

Cecilia opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was so dry, all that came out was a dull cough. She swallowed.

"So, if that's the case, Black," she said, with all the courage she could muster, "how come these so-called werewolves didn't get you?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I was in the form of a dog. And Mr Snuffles wasn't best pleased at the "mangy" part of your description."

"You were the dog?" she said, astonished.

"I'm an Animagus." He paused, allowing the information to settle in. "Animagi can transform into other animals. It comes in very handy as a disguise, and offers some measure of protection, I can become a dog..." And before her very eyes, Cecilia gasped as Sirius's form receded, and the big black dog which had stood before her earlier that evening stared back at her.

"How did you do it?" asked Cecilia eventually, shaking her head in disbelief. Sirius reappeared before her.

"It's quite complicated; you are supposed to register your Animagus form with the Ministry when you do it, but we...I never did. That's why I can move around un-noticed."

"But what about your clothes?" she pressed. "When you transformed, you weren't a dog with clothes round you, yet when you changed back, you were clothed..." Unless it's part of the spell, she mused. It must be, else it wouldn't make sense. Sirius laughed, grinning at her.

"The legendary Cecilia Frobisher and her scientific mind..." he said, mockingly. "Is there any point in my simply saying that it's magic? I am quite convinced you won't accept that as an answer..."

"But there must be some sort of code, a program in you spell that means they are there or not..." Cecilia began to pace round the dilapidated room. If it's genetic, there must be something that controls the outer of the clothes. Clothes aren't part of you, you're not born with clothes... Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Only a muggle could ever think like that," he said, conceding defeat. She gave him a contemptuous look.

"But why do your clothes reappear though?" she persisted. "They are matter, after all, substance..."

"Probably for the same reason yours don't after you've had a bath..." he stepped away from Cecilia, with a gleam in his eye, watching the horrified expression form on her face.

"What did you say?" Her mind raced. Had he said what she thought she'd heard him say? Had he spied on her in Grimmauld Place? What else had he done while she'd been there, apart from attempting to kill her?

"And a mighty fine body too...lovely legs..." he indicated her figure by giving an outline of it with his hands.

"Black? You...spied on me?" The shock of his acknowledgement had brought her down to earth so hard, that that was all she could manage.

"Yes" he said, playing on her shock. "I have been. Making sure you were all right. I had no choice Cecilia," he continued, as she took a couple of steps towards him, "I told Dumbledore to tell you I was sorry for what I did...I wanted to tell you myself...but still Remus wouldn't let me near you..."

"You mean...you've been spying on me in my room _here_? At Hogwarts?" Sirius began to chuckle, then noticed her expression.

"It's not like I haven't seen it all before, you know. You have a very nice body, from the little I've seen of it, Cecilia. Well padded bottom..." Sirius stepped closer, and she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. Cecilia could feel his eyes, scanning her body as he approached...

The slap came out of nowhere; Sirius hadn't been expecting it and he stepped back slightly, in shock. Cecilia folded her arms resolutely, and sat back down on the piano stool.

"Well I hope you had a very good look," she said quietly, "then you will also have seen what it was you did to me," she bowed her head. "Madam Pomfrey thinks I'm lucky to still be able to walk after what you tried..."

Silence reigned for a few minutes: Cecilia continued to stare at the floor, and Sirius held his stinging cheek. Eventually, he spoke.

"I suppose I deserved that..." he said looking at Cecilia. She looked back up at him.

"When can I get out of here?" she said.

"I told you, we have to wait for the morning...because of the..."

"...werewolves," she finished sardonically. "Come off it, Sirius. The last thing I thought you were was a liar..."

"It's true," he said, wide eyed. "You don't believe me?" Their eyes met briefly and the thoughts Cecilia had had, the first time she saw Sirius filled her mind. Sorrowful...yet reckless...handle with care... Cecilia stemmed her thoughts, mentally shaking her head, and looked back down.

"Cecilia" he said, "I am sorry for what I did. It was wrong, I was mistaken...impetuous..." Their eyes locked again. Cecilia smiled a little. He actually did look sorry.

Sirius stood up. "Well I'm glad I did check your room tonight; I'm not sure you are fully aware of what Death Eaters might have done to you, should they have found you," he added.

"Believe me, I have a good idea," she replied. "But I didn't know Severus was going to join me in the pub. I was supposed to be meeting Nym- Tonks for a drink, but she couldn't make it..." She looked down at the floor again.

"Are you sure there's no other way out?" she asked hopefully. Sirius shook his head.

"Here," he said, throwing her his coat. It was brown and a bit muddy and about fifty years old.

"Try and get some sleep," he added, sinking into the corner of one of the rooms, closing his eyes. Cecilia looked back at the coat. It smelt of dog. That figures, she thought, as she sat with her knees up to her chest on the floor by the piano, pulling it over her.

I still don't trust you, Sirius, she thought, surprised by its warmth. But I can feign sleep when my life might be in danger, so there's no harm in acting.

"Comfortable?" asked Sirius, opening his eyes and looking at her.

"I wouldn't say that," she replied, then added, "but warm...thanks..."

"So Severus isn't a traitor then..." she said, after some time.

"As much as it pains me to say this Cecilia, no he is not. There's nothing I'd love nothing more than to get rid of the greasy git and never have him darken the doors of my home any more than they are already dark. But sadly, his role in the Order is too valuable."

There was a pause.

"Did you say he found you in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Yes," said Cecilia. "I was waiting for Tonks, I thought she might be late. Remus said 9.30, but I thought I'd hang on a bit."

"You spoke to Remus?" Sirius sat up, and stared at Cecilia.

"Yes, Friday," she said, "Not that it's any of your business," she added.

"And does my darling cousin know of your secret liaison?" he said, teasingly. Cecilia sat up, and stared at Sirius, feeling quite grateful that it was dark and he couldn't see her blush.

"We only talked," she said quickly. "He was kind enough to want to know how I was, if you must know." Sirius's eyes widened, and he chuckled slightly.

"Mrs Frobisher, have we touched a nerve?"

"Remus said he was quite shocked that someone he considered his best friend would behave like you did."

"How many more times do I have to say I am sorry?" said Sirius, defensively. "It's going to be a long night if were going to be arguing about this..."

More silence.

"Do all fires connect to the Floo?" said Cecilia. "It was bizarre when Remus first spoke to me from it, and then the flickering over the last few weeks. Now I know it was you spying on me. I thought I was going mad..."

"Well probably", said Sirius, yawning, "and I suggest you wear a little more when stepping out of the bathroom, in future..."he said, "not that I minded the view I must say," he added as Cecilia huffed her disapproval.

"And just how long have spying on me?" she asked indignantly.

"Long enough to know that you look really sexy in your pink and blue stripy pyjamas and fluffy bunny slippers, and when you put on that green stuff on your face, there's a significant improvement…"

Cecilia pulled a face at him in the dark.

"Seriously though, I really did just want to check you're OK," he said, evenly.

"You really don't trust Severus, do you?"

"Yes I've noticed you're on first name terms with him. I'm not going to apologise for making sure you are safe, though and Harry too. You can't help not fully understanding everything that's going on around you..."

But that doesn't mean I'm incapable, Black, thought Cecilia and the phrase she had read in Sirius's letter to Harry sprang to the front of her mind. So you truly believe I can't comprehend what's going on simply because I'm a muggle? she thought crossly.

"...,just because Dumbledore trusts him, doesn't mean he wouldn't try anything..." Sirius continued.

"I trust him more than I trust you," she fired back, sitting up.

"After what you saw tonight?"

"Well, after what you just told me, yes," she said, leaning forward in Sirius's direction. And not about Severus, she added silently.

"I can't believe I'm stuck here with you for a whole night," she said, irritably. "It's going to be so much fun. And before you call me a stupid muggle again, perhaps you could evaluate your actions as to the letter you sent to Harry?"

"Letter?" Sirius got to his feet quickly. "What do you know of a letter?" He moved over to her.

"Telling him if anything happens to you your hopes were with him," she continued provocatively. "I mean, not putting any pressure on him at all are you?"

"And who are you to be telling me anything I should be saying to Harry? I'm practically the closest family he has!" Sirius stood up, leaning towards her.

"Well I'm not sure you know much about families, Black, but they don't go around adding more pressure to a child who is under so much pressure as it is."

"You don't need to tell me that!" he shouted, making her jump. Cecilia got to her feet and they stood face to face.

"Well perhaps I do...I possibly have had a smidgeon more experience with children than you..." She paced over to the four poster bed and, arms folded, sat down heavily.

It collapsed, covering her in dust, cobwebs and old cloth. Sirius burst out laughing. He crossed the room to where Cecilia was fighting the cloth which covered her and coughing heavily because of the dust and held out a hand. When she finally got her head and arms free, she took it.

"That's the funniest thing I've seen all year," he said, chuckling as he helped her grumpily to her feet.

"Then you can't have got out much," she retorted, then instantly regretted it. She looked into his beautiful dark eyes. He continued to laugh, and she smiled too, thinking what a sight she must look.

"Are you OK?" he said, still chuckling.

"Fine," she said, thinking of the one or two bruises she would be sporting in the morning. She leaned down to feel her leg. There was a small trickle of blood which she quickly wiped it away with her finger before sitting back down on the floor, knees to chest on Sirius's coat.

"We used to come here, all of us, to the Shrieking Shack," said Sirius, his laughter waning. "Harry's father James, Remus...Peter..." he frowned. "This is the most haunted house in Britain you know." Cecilia smiled, resisting the challenge to argue. He sat down next to her.

"Us four, sneaking off at nights for a laugh, hanging out here while the other good students were tucked up safely in their beds."

"The Marauders," said Cecilia, as the knut dropped. She glanced up at Sirius's confused face. "Tonks told me. Minerva gave you the name," she added, smiling knowingly.

"More often than not we spent our time thinking up new and unusual set-ups for dear old Sniv-" she caught her look, "Snape..."

"Bully..." said Cecilia. She sighed, exhaustion overcoming her. "Can't believe got to stay here, with _you_..." she goaded again, despite her creeping exhaustion. "Peeping Tom," she added mischievously.

"Hey," said Sirius in tones of mock-injury. "That's what comes of sticking your nose in where it's not needed, you strange, strange woman. However," he continued, turning to face her, "from what I see you do to prepare for lessons that aren't even of consequence is admirable..." she frowned at him.

"Not of consequence...?"

"I mean, you don't need to do them..."

"That's where you're wrong, Black," she said quickly. "How else will the next generation of wizards and witches realise that muggles as you so politely call us, are not threatening to them? What else can I do to prevent another Voldermort –" she pointed in the direction of the door, "or his followers from appearing again? People I know might die then. People I live and work with. I'm afraid you're quite wrong, Sirius, my lessons are of consequence..."

"Do you have any children Cecilia?" asked Sirius quietly. Cecilia could feel the colour draining from her face. She turned away, and looked at the wall.

"I apologise," he said eventually, when she said nothing. "I suggest you get some rest," he added, retreating to the corner of the room. "Keep my coat, if you wish, it's turned much colder; there'll probably be a frost..."

Cecilia pulled the coat round her shoulders, without saying a word. Damn you Sirius Black, she thought, as she wiped a tear from her cheek. Damn you...

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Cecilia was awoken by something touching her shoulder. Turning to one side, she was about to push Dobby away, then she started – a huge black dog was nuzzling her. She blinked as the weak sunlight penetrated the room around her, and she sat up, and looked at herself; her hair full of dust, clothes torn and filthy.

The dog transformed into Sirius Black, and Cecilia sighed as she stood up. The events of the last night then cascaded over her. She glanced at him, suspiciously.

"Mr Snuffles was checking to make sure everything was all right," said Sirius, watching her glimpse at the exit.

"So I can go now?" she said. He nodded, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Only if you want to," he added, with a wink.

"Believe me, I want to," said Cecilia, narrowing her eyes.

They emerged into the early morning sunlight, and Sirius led her to the entrance of a secret passage that he explained to her would take her to a door in the oak panelling by the portrait of the Fat Lady.

They walked over the land between the Shrieking Shack to Hogwarts in silence, each of them glancing at the other as they went and Cecilia considered the way in which Sirius had treated her. Ignoring his obvious personality discrepancies: arrogance; narcissism; prejudice; conceit; vanity...she actually hadn't felt out of control or vulnerable last night, all in all. Not like she'd expected she'd feel. Perhaps this was a new start, she thought. He might have actually realised he had gone too far.

Soon they reached a passage hidden behind some bushes. Cecilia recognised where they were, and remembered passing this side of the castle the previous night on the way to the Three Broomsticks. The passage continued under the basalt rocks that were the very foundations of Hogwarts, until it narrowed and darkened, with only a circular door at the end.

"Just through there, and you're back," said Sirius, pointing to the door. "You need to climb over there, then up." He smiled at Cecilia.

"Last night," said Cecilia, turning to Sirius. "Thank you. I would have been in trouble if Mr Snuffles hadn't arrived..." she smiled indicating a touch of familiarity before turning to go.

"Don't mention it," said Sirius. "By the way, be careful with that door..."

Cecilia turned back. "Why?"

"It's been there for over a hundred years, and I don't think it has seen the likes of anything that big before," he chuckled, and slapped her on the bottom.

"How dare you!" Cecilia blushed and spun round, seeing the smirk on his face. "I'll thank you to keep your hands to yourself, Black" she said, indignantly.

"Now, now Mrs Frobisher, however can I resist, with something as big as that? Don't forget I've seen it in the flesh, so to speak."

Cecilia raised her hand; he deserved the slap that was coming to him this time, the arrogant so-and-so. But Sirius was too quick for her, and he caught her wrist.

"You shouldn't go round doing things like that, Cecilia," he said softly. "It hurt last time..."

Suddenly, he took her hand and kissed the back of it, and looked back deeply into her eyes as he did so, his own full of sorrow; regret.

Then he pulled her closer, and leaned in, pressing his lips firmly to hers, a long full kiss, making Cecilia gasp. She allowed him to pull her closer, feeling the warmth of his body through her clothes...his muscular chest...his heartbeat...the tingly sensation running down her spine giving her an irresistible urge to...

Just as suddenly, she pulled away and continued the slap which had been so rudely interrupted.

"Ow," said Sirius, looking confused. "What was that for?"

"That...was for trying to kill me in the summer," she said, brightly. "Now I think we're quits, Mr Black." She turned to go. "Thank you again for showing me back."

"It was a pleasure, Cecilia," said Sirius, rubbing his cheek. "I'm sure we'll see each other soon...goodbye." Cecilia turned towards the door and began to proceed into Hogwarts, contemplating the way she had to go when she reached the Gryffindor floor.

"Cecilia..." She turned back round. Sirius was beckoning her from a few yards down the passage. She walked back to him.

"Yes?" she said. Sirius smiled, and grabbed her hand.

"For the research," he said simply, looking straight into her eyes. Without waiting for her to reply turned he strode back down the passage towards the grounds, without turning back. Cecilia watched him go then looked down into her hand. It was a lock of his hair.

Never had Cecilia walked so fast through the corridors of Hogwarts, down the stairs and back across the first floor, into the teacher's quarters and straight into her own room. Slamming it behind her, she leaned against it, her heart racing almost as fast as her mind. She stood there for a while as she tried sort out her chaotic feelings.

The school clock chimed six o'clock. Cecilia looked down at Sirius's hair in her hand, and her mind cleared. With her back still against her door, at 6am on her twenty-ninth birthday, she smiled...

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	14. The Extra Mile

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"No, look," said Cecilia wearily, approaching him as he stood at the front of the classroom. She'd explained how to button up a shirt eighteen times to George Weasley already; the rest of the class, including Fred had progressed onto muggle money and clothes, but George appeared to be stuck on the practical side. She tried not to lose patience; she was sure the lad wasn't doing it on purpose.

"Right, undo them," she said, as George cast a pitiful look in the direction of his brother. "Now start from the bottom…and the rest of you," she said to the sixth year students, who had stopped doing what she'd asked to look at George, "continue with counting the money out that I have given you. In pairs, one of you make up prices and the other buy the rulers and things, and the clothes...and unless you feel they are particularly honest, check the change they give you..." she grinned, then turned back to George.

"Look at where the buttons go, George," she said, smiling encouragingly. "Count up, and then that's the shirt done." Despite inward amusement at the young wizards buying pencils and pens from one another for ten and twenty pounds apiece, half past four could not come quick enough for Cecilia. It wasn't as if she had started off fresh that morning and as the lessons progressed throughout the day it got worse: in addition to her lack of sleep it seemed that the rumour about her being a squib had permeated the castle, and despite it not being accurate it didn't stop her feeling uneasy.

While she watched the sixth-year students play at muggle shopping, having ushered a successful George to join them, Cecilia considered the last twenty four hours, or at least her weary mind put up no obstacles to the re-playing of the events...

...the horrific scene of a Death Eater meeting and discovering Snape really had been involved...a man they had bullied and tortured...muggles they planned to kill...

She'd had the urge to rush off to Dumbledore to tell him about what she had seen almost as soon as she had returned that morning. Would the muggles they were planning to murder be safe? Would Snape prevent it, or would this be part of the cover? Either way if she went to see Dumbledore, she would have to say how she knew; that's if he didn't know already, but she was damned well not going to let any muggle die because of those vicious thugs...

Nodding in the direction of Angelina, who seemed to be the most successful in procuring shoes and a pair of red gloves for the best price, her mind drifted to...

...Sirius Black. The man had tried to murder her only two months ago. He'd had dragged her out of the way of the Death Eaters where she would almost certainly have been found; a situation which she had been stupid enough to get herself into...he was able to transform into a dog, an Animagus he described the phenomenon as...it must be genetic; the DNA must change to allow this, she reasoned, and made a mental note to look this up.

Pushing her feelings deep down Cecilia resolved to forget about them entirely and made a conscious effort to think systematically and logically instead. She considered how much different their being together had been compared to what she'd expected to feel when they met again. On the one hand their dialogue had been caustic; they had disagreed about almost everything they had spoken about last night.

Even more so when we realised we were annoying one another; we did it almost out of sport, she thought wryly. Why else would he mention about seeing me half-dressed? Why else would I mention the letter to Harry?

Cecilia glanced round and checked on the students: they had proceeded onto the next part of the lesson, looking at the Latin abbreviations round the edge of the coins, and considering the muggle clothes circa 1970 she had found in a box in the back of a cupboard in the classroom...

...on the other hand, they had also demonstrated mutual trust: Cecilia that his word that remaining in the Shrieking Shack was preferable to being killed by werewolves and Sirius by freely contributing to the research he had previously been so against, and she put her hand against her trouser pocket.

Then there had been the rumour of her being a squib. From leaving her room that morning and progressing to her classroom early to check the Muggle Studies book for news in the muggle world as was her routine, she encountered the result of the knowledge of her having no wizard powers. Students had looked and stared at her all day, whispering to one another and avoiding her in the corridor. Mostly those with Slytherin house badges on their robes she noted, but it wasn't until she began teaching that day that she realised why.

At least one student had asked questions about her being a squib in each lesson, wanting to know whether what Draco Malfoy had said was true; how she had overcome such disability; whether she had been abandoned to muggles; what she felt toward wizards; if her being a squib had compelled her to teach muggle studies...

It amazed Cecilia almost as much as their ignorance about muggles, of their attitude towards people born within their own society: being a wizard in the blood mattered to them but in order for a measure of status to be upheld blood had to be accompanied with power...but then, didn't she already have scientific evidence to support this?

"So, " she said, pulling herself out of her thoughts. "What do you make of them?

"The clothes were funny" said Angelina, holding up a pair of purple velvet flared trousers and matching jacket. The collar was so big you could have gone hang-gliding. "I can't imagine wearing these." The class laughed.

"You would have looked really stylish in the 1970s" said Cecilia, smiling in agreement. "It's a man's suit, though girls did wear similar trousers. And those," she said, pointing to a pair of platform shoes. "Those and a ruffled blouse, curly hair and beads...you'd have looked the biz down the disco, Angelina." She smiled as the young witch turned up her nose in disgust.

"What about the coins?" she said, turning to the pile of muggle money, which amounted to a tidy sum, on the desk before her. "Any differences between those and wiz-...proper money?"

"It's really hard to count," said Juliette May, a small blonde Ravenclaw student. "Whoever thought to make it into such awkward fractions?"

"Yes, in tens," said Angelina. "Ten lots of ten is a pound. Galleons and sickles are so much easier."

"And, would you believe," said Cecilia, "that the British system of money changed in 1971 to this because they thought it was more straightforward." She smiled inwardly as the students exchanged looks of incredulity. "Does anyone know what coins we had before?"

"Galleons, sickles and knuts" shouted someone from the back. Everyone laughed.

"Dollars?" shouted someone else. "Gold?"

"Pounds, shillings and pence," said Lee Jordan firmly, from the front row. Cecilia nodded.

"Did everyone hear that? Stand up Mr Jordan, and tell everyone what you just said."

"In Britain, before 1971, the coins were pounds, shillings and pence," said Lee beaming, addressing the class. "There were twelve pence in a shilling and twenty shillings in a pound. And twenty one shillings was a guinea."

"That's right," said Cecilia, taken aback slightly at the young wizard's numismatic knowledge. "How did you know that?"

"My grandfather was a muggle. He taught me to count in imperial."

"Excellent," said Cecilia. "Anything else about the coins?"

"Regina...that's Latin for Queen," continued Lee, unabashed. "And there's the date the coin was made..."

"Very good, Mr Jordan," said Cecilia. "Ten house points for Gryffindor for such superb knowledge and application."

She looked at the parchment on the classroom wall; following Cecilia's way of recording house points manually, the classes had taken it upon themselves to appoint an official representative: Reyhana Mohamed form Hufflepuff got to her feet and proceeded to the right, adding a "10" to the Gryffindor sheet. A wave of realisation swept across the class as she returned to her seat and the class murmured amongst themselves, glancing at Cecilia.

"Very good," she said, smiling as if her secret was out. "However adding pencil to paper wasn't just for my benefit: you were learning too." She stifled a yawn. "Anything else?" The students looked at one another blankly.

"OK, that's enough for today, there are still a few minutes before the end of the lesson so, as it's my birthday, I'm going to let you all go a few minutes early." Almost immediately the benches scraped across the flagstone floor, and the noise of belongings being collected, one or two "hurrahs"; footsteps and low-level chatter filled the room. "I'll leave the muggle money at the back of the room if you wish to look at it," she added to the retreating students. "Have a good evening and I'll see you on Thursday."

Thank heavens for half past four, she thought to herself again, as she picked up her pens and muggle studies book.

"Mrs Frobisher," said Fred, behind her. She turned, and both Weasley twins were standing there.

"Hello lads, what can I do for you?"

"Are you OK? Are you well?" George looked at his brother.

"Its just we were wondering," said Fred, noticing her expression. "You just, well, didn't seem like yourself today."

"A bit tired," she said. "Thanks for your concern."

"We just thought...you know...about the squib thing..."

"Because _we_ all know you're not a squib..."

"And we know you only said you are because of the -" George elbowed Fred in the ribs.

"...anyway, we made you this.." George held out his hand. "Not much really, but Tonks said it was your birthday, and Fred and I were looking at some of the muggle stuff..."

"...and Dad sent us a letter and told us some things he knew..." chipped in Fred.

"...we hope you like it..."

Cecilia looked down. The twins had made her a newspaper. It was done in the style of the "Daily Prophet" but as if it were for muggles. They had called it "The Daily Science" and the headline read, "Horror in the Government, man builds own flying machine. Minister says, "This is just like magic!" "

"Look there's even some results pages at the back for the football," said George, uncertainly. "You do like it, Mrs Frobisher?"

"It took us hours," said Fred, looking for the sympathy vote. "We did it without magic and everything..." Cecilia looked up.

"This is truly remarkable; you've got a real talent for humour, lads." Stoke City winning seven-nil to Aston Villa was certainly hilarious. She glanced across at them, and noticed the downcast look.

"Mum says that all the time, " said Fred, glumly.

"See, I told you it was a stupid thing to do," said George to his brother.

"No," said Cecilia hurriedly. "I really like it and I think your flair for comedy is one of your real assets, both of you." She picked up the paper and gestured to the headline approvingly. "This is top quality material. There's definitely a market out there for this, though I can only speak for the muggle world."

"Seriously? Thanks, Mrs Frobisher," said George, beaming at his brother.

"Have a great birthday," added Fred.

"Will do," she said, looking at the newspaper again as the twins departed.

"See, I told you she'd like it," she heard George say.

88888888

Her opportunity to savour every comic moment from the twins' newspaper was impeded however by the presence of Tonks in her fireplace once she got back to her room.

She wished Cecilia a happy birthday and apologised for not meeting her the previous night at the "Three Broomsticks".

"You got my message then," said Tonks, rapidly. "I must have just missed you, so I Floo'd into the fire at the "Three Broomsticks" and asked Desiderata Wall to pass the message on. Did you get back safely? I was meaning to pop back to make sure, but...what?" Tonks stopped mid-babble in response to the look on Cecilia's face.

"Oh and to think, how differently last night would have been if you had have turned up, Miss Tonks" said Cecilia, trying to contain her laughter.

"Why's that?" said Tonks, frowning.

"You'd never believe what happened." Cecilia swallowed, making sure the one thing she didn't want Tonks to know about didn't come spilling out with everything else.

"...go on..."

"Well, and you'd be so proud of me for this one, Tonks, I actually bought butterbeer...on my own...in a wizard pub...with wizard money..."

"...no!" said Tonks, in mock-amazement. "Don't tell me you also..."

"...got change, and I managed to count it too!" said Cecilia, playing along. "Just goes to show you what we muggles can do when we put our minds to it!"

"...wonders will never cease," said Tonks, jovially.

"...and you'll never guess who joined me..."

"No, who?"

"Severus…"

"Snape?!"

"Kept me company when you didn't show..."

"Come off it – you don't mean to tell me you and Snape …" said Tonks aghast, looking at Cecilia's face. "He didn't have a go?

"We got on very well, actually," said Cecilia, smiling. "I mean, relatively speaking," she added. "What?" She asked, as she saw Tonks shake her head.

"I know you work well together Cecilia but come on, what did you find to talk about? I mean you're a muggle and well, he's a..."

"Death Eater?" said Cecilia. She'd intended to speak to Tonks about that, but not like that. She waited for Tonks to speak.

"Reformed," said Tonks eventually. "He works for Dumbledore now and there's no way that Dumbledore would allow him to work at Hogwarts unless he could trust him. But still...even knowing that, Cecilia, you still sat in the pub and spent time with him?"

"I didn't know then, but it wouldn't have made any difference. He rushed off quite suddenly and told me to go back to Hogwarts but instead I followed him."

"Hang on; you followed him to a Death Eater meeting? Are you serious? "

Cecilia nodded, dumbly.

"But – you could have been killed, or found out, or anything! Heavens above, Cecilia, that was so dangerous! I doubt if Snape would have come to your rescue if that had gone wrong. And besides, there are other things just as dangerous in the Forbidden Forest. Whatever possessed you?"

"I had to find out where he was going. He just rushed off, like he does. I'd had a drink so I suppose I wasn't actually thinking. But that's beside the point. I saw them torture a man," continued Cecilia. "A wizard. They were trying to get information out of him. Avery, he was called. And they talked about an attack on muggles..." she looked pointedly at Tonks, who nodded.

"When?"

"Halloween," said Cecilia. "Can you do anything to stop it?"

"I'll let the Order know," she said, "and make sure it filters through to information at the ministry. They've got more eyes out there looking for anything You-Know-Who might be up to, though usually in the wrong place. Hey," she said, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Cecilia smiled. "Just extremely tired. I didn't get much sleep last night, and the fact that the students think I'm a squib is quite unsettling. I didn't intend to say anything but Draco Malfoy seems to know, heaven knows how, and is doing his damnest to make sure everyone at Hogwarts knows too. Keeping up the pretence is actually quite tiring. Anyway, " she added, changing the subject, "it was a shock to say the least to find out about Severus."

"Are you telling me that you didn't suspect something?"

"I'm not sure what I expected Death Eaters to be like, Tonks. I mean the fact that he's, well, like he is didn't have me jumping to conclusions. I suppose the fact that he lost his temper with me in the summer about the Dark Mark of Voldermort should have made me think. It would have made it a lot easier if he had just told me."

"Would you have told anyone if you were in his position?"

Cecilia stopped. Tonks really did have a way of understanding people, much more than she did. Of course she wouldn't want anyone to know if she was a Death Eater. It would have been shameful. No wonder he hadn't told her.

"You're right. But doesn't being a Death Eater mean you're one for life? And you're at Voldermort's behest?

"Ultimately, the reason he's still alive is because V-... You-Know-Who believes him to be on his side. What he does for the Order is between him and Dumbledore. Dumbledore trusts Snape, like I said, and quite frankly I wouldn't want to know what it was that is keeping him in You-Know-Who's good books. Just promise me, Cecilia you won't go after him again..."

"I won't, " said Cecilia, firmly. She'd made up her mind about that last night in the Shrieking Shack.

"...because I doubt you'll be so lucky as to get away from them again," continued Tonks. "How did you manage to get away from them without being seen, anyway?"

"Pure luck," said Cecilia. "I took off when I realised what was going on. I ran back up towards the castle, and it was just by chance I found a tunnel underneath the Castle and a door that led back inside." At least most of that wasn't a lie; she'd just edited out a good eight hours of it. Besides she wasn't in the mood for telling Tonks the whole truth just yet, not least because she didn't know how she felt about it herself, and besides...she was his cousin...

"Anyway," continued Cecilia, changing the subject again. "I need to think of a diplomatic way of telling Dumbledore I need to leave the castle if we are to make decent progress."

"Not for good?" exclaimed Tonks. "I thought you were able to do all your tests there?"

"It's because of what you said about the samples actually, Tonks, if there was another way of doing it because of the controversial nature of blood to wizards. You got me thinking and there is another way, but I can't do it on my own. The laboratory tests are complicated and would be too conspicuous to do here, and it might just be safer to let someone else do them. If Dumbledore will let me go with hair samples instead of blood, I can get the same genetic information from them. A friend of mine in the real- ...at home can do them and it would mean we get the results in hours rather than weeks."

"Sounds good, Cecilia. I'm sure Dumbledore won't object. He knows you wouldn't be doing it for anything other than work; he wouldn't have proposed you for a member of the Order otherwise. Not like I understand anything you've just though," she laughed.

"Well, one day I hope to explain it to you Tonks. In fact, maybe a Hogwarts student will be able to, then I'll know I've taught them something worthwhile!"

"It really means a lot to you, doesn't it, that the students learn something from you about muggles."

"Si- Severus said the same thing, but we're fighting a war against people who know nothing about muggles, so the more I can do to lessen the divide, the more I will." And your world definitely needs it, she added silently. "Especially when people who are supposed to be your kith and kin are treated so badly."

"Hear, hear," said Tonks, nodding in agreement. "Life's not good to a squib in the wizard world."

"The main thing is that Severus must be in agreement," continued Cecilia, stretching out her legs carefully to ease a muscle cramp that was beginning to form.

"You can do what you like though, Cecilia, you know more about muggle science than him."

"He is my partner, Tonks, at work that is," she added, "we have to work together or there's no point. Admittedly he's not the first person I'd choose to work with..."

"Thousandth and first more like," laughed Tonks.

"But when we do work together it's good; we make progress. That's all I can ask for in a colleague. He understands what I mean even though there is no logical reason for him to be able to do so, he can apply wizard understanding to what I'm trying to say. There's mutual respect between us. Professionally, it works."

"Then why are you concerned about his reaction?"

"Because he won't understand if it comes from me. He might think it's an excuse to get away from him like he did the last time. I think Dumbledore will understand though; it'll take that to convince Severus to trust me. And I'll probably need to go with an Order member." She paused.

"I don't suppose, if it came to it, whether you'd like to come with me? It'd just be us, Nick, a handful of wizard hair samples and a laboratory. The most crucial part of the research, in fact..."

"Love to," replied Tonks quickly. "How could I refuse?"

88888888

Cecilia and Tonks carried on chatting until Cecilia felt too tired to carry on. They'd continued past the research and onto Tonks's work, briefly stopping at how the rest of the Order members were.

Charlie Weasley, she found out was unwell, having been caught off-guard by a sick dragon. Remus too was also under the weather, but Tonks did not go into detail. Cecilia had broached the subject of her research with Tonks and asked her if she was familiar with the word "Reciprocator", but Tonks had shaken her head, though promised she would look into it. As soon as the fire dimmed, she lay on her bed considering how nice it was being able to chat freely to a friend on her birthday, even though she was so far form home.

Not so freely, she thought again, as she sank against the softness of the eiderdown. She'd congratulated herself on keeping enough of her wits about her long enough to talk about what was bothering her about her work to the young witch, and also not mention Sirius.

Well done indeed, another part of her chided herself sarcastically. Because worrying about the small possibility that Dumbledore might disagree about you going home, and you know there might be a chance, that and the fact that you're confused about your feelings on the incident just before 6am this morning isn't doing you much good.

And that was the really annoying part, she thought to herself as sleep crept up on her slowly. She could have done with the last half an hour talking to her best friend about her work and Sirius Black to get her head straight but, well, to put it bluntly, Tonks just wasn't Libby...

...Cecilia awoke a few hours later, still in the same position, but feeling much more refreshed. She stared into the darkness and wondered why, after the fact she had been asleep it was dark. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she pulled on the light switch that was close to her desk and looked at her watch. 9.45.

Then she remembered, she hadn't slept through the night, she'd just dozed...because she hadn't had much sleep the night before...because...she'd been pulled out of the way of a dozen Death Eaters by Sirius Black.

Right, she thought calmly, as I don't have Libby, here goes. What I need to get the across to Dumbledore that this is the best way to proceed, she thought, refusing to think about anything else as proceeded into the bathroom for a wash.

He'll be concerned about the security of it; he thinks Hogwarts is the safest place. And should I mention that by going home it'll help? She ran the water from the basin and proceeded to rinse then lather her face.

Perhaps he'll think I'm running away, she thought as she selected some fresh clothes to wear. Maybe I am, she thought, glancing at the fireplace before discarding her towel and getting dressed. Maybe I need to feel more in control than I do.

But if that's the case you wouldn't be getting these samples tested by Nick. If you really didn't have this research at heart you'd be here trying to do it yourself.

Then why do I feel so nervous about this? Cecilia asked herself. Why do I feel like I need to do it?

It's because you care; because of what you've seen, said a little voice in her head. Let's face it, you wouldn't have told Tonks about the attacks on muggles at Halloween if you didn't care. You wouldn't have let anyone know you'd followed Severus otherwise.

And, chimed in another voice as she brushed her hair in the shield-shaped mirror by the wardrobe. You shouldn't feel bad about wanting to go home. It's home and here isn't.

Placing down her hairbrush, Cecilia felt inside her trouser pocket, taking out the lock of hair Sirius had given to her. She looked at the obsidian-black strands as it shimmered in the lamplight.

And you mustn't feel bad about that either, the second voice continued. You know he was doing it for your own good, even if he is a charmer with prejudices as long as...as long Mr Snuffles' lead, she smiled to herself.

"So I'm going to put it in the back of "Magic and Muggles" until I need it then," she concluded aloud in a decisive tone. And put Sirius Black's actions of this morning right out of my mind for the time being. Just as she closed the book and replaced it on the shelf, the school clock chimed eleven.

Gosh, no wonder I'm feeling hungry, she thought as she left the room. She hurried down the stairs to the Great Hall, which was deserted. Blast, she thought. Missed any hope of tea.

Cecilia turned to make her way down to the potions laboratory; at least she could catch up with Severus and make a head start on some work when someone called her.

"Lady!" came Dobby's voice urgently across the Great Hall. "Lady!"

"Dobby?"

"Lady _has_ come to see us, like she promised!" Dobby came from the right-hand side of the Great Hall, dressed in what seemed like a fluffy rainbow but turned out to be a brightly coloured striped jumper, balancing a pile of plates stacked four feet high in front of him.

"Er, well-" began Cecilia, looking at the house elf. "Dobby, er-"

"Dobby told Bingo, Dobby did! Dobby said..." Dobby panted as he hurried closer. "Dobby said that Lady had been busy and would visit us soon. Because Bingo said Lady was far too busy pretending to be something she was not and didn't have time for us house elves any more because she is thinks she is above us. But look, Dobby is right, because here Lady is, visiting Dobby!"

"Er, yes, quite right, Dobby. I was down here looking for you..." Cecilia had intended to visit the house elves in the kitchen, but since such a lot of things had happened since Saturday, she hadn't meant for it to be tonight.

But I suppose tonight's as good a night as any, she resolved, as she was led by the hand firmly by Dobby, who was now doing what seemed like a victory dance down the stairs towards the kitchen. At least it would keep her mind off a certain wizard; cleaning would probably be good for the soul and at least give her some time to reflect.

The time spent in the kitchen with the house elves was rewarding. As they entered the kitchen she could hear the singing of elf-song echoing across the stone floor. Every elf who was employed by the school seemed to be there, merrily working away, not batting an eyelid when she was half-dragged to the food area by a manic Dobby.

Once he and Winky, had established that she had indeed not had any tea, she was overwhelmed by wonderful left-overs. Cecilia mentioned it was her birthday too, and almost instantaneously she was inundated with even more food, some of which got wrapped up as a doggy bag when she explained there was far more than she could possibly eat. Many other house elves, some Cecilia hadn't remember seeing before, came over to greet her too, stopping their jobs briefly to say hello, before recommencing them although others were shouldered aside so Dobby and Winky could fuss over her.

Soon after, Cecilia began to assist the Dobby and Winky with some ironing. She liked repetitive household jobs when there were things on her mind; it was often very therapeutic, although tonight it looked like she wouldn't be getting much thinking done. Both elves chattered on as they worked, jovially and warmly, as if Cecilia were one of them.

"...and Dobby's mother, she was Kreacher's aunt, oh yes, and Trevin, he was Kreacher's father..."

"...Trevin was Winky's grandfather, Dobby..." squeaked Winky, chipped in happily as she folded the sheets when Cecilia had finished ironing them. Despite her being miles too short to hold them, she enchanted them horizontally in mid-air and folded them magically into ninths. Cecilia nodded, as if humouring them both.

"...oh yes Trevin, now Trevin's brother Drevin, Drevin was the house-elf to the Goyle family, Lady; not a very nice family at all, not at all..." at this, Dobby's face changed from genial recounting, to increasing horror, as if the story was playing like a film behind his eyes.

"...worse than Dobby when Dobby was with his family! If it hadn't been for Anaglypta Goyle accidentally handing Drevin a set of braces instead of the duster he would be a very sick house elf by now, he surely would..."

"So are you all related to one another?"

"Yes," said Winky. "Every house elf is. And every house elf who is born to a house elf in a family eventually becomes their house elf. No house elf has to look for a family," she added proudly.

Cecilia continued to iron, pushing the thought of how a boy elf actually had time to meet a girl elf when they were so tied to their families.

"...and Silky is Winky's sister AND Bingo's mother..." Dobby carried on merrily, handing Cecilia crumpled sheets every so often.

"Dobby," asked Cecilia after a while, pausing whilst ironing. "What do you mean when you say Drevin would be sick? Like a disease?" Dobby stopped.

"No, Lady," he said in a confused tone. He then turned to Winky, who had stopped folding a sheet in mid-air. "Lady Does Not Know About The Blood, Winky!" he said to her urgently, in a half-whisper. Almost immediately, tears began to fall down Winky's cheeks. Cecilia looked between them.

"What do you mean, Dobby?" she asked slowly, as if talking to a child. "What don't I know about the blood?" She turned her head suddenly when Winky began to howl. The little elf had falling to her knees and was shaking. Cecilia knelt by her, patting her gently on the shoulders. Winky looked up at her, big eyes shimmering, and shiffing intermittently.

"Lady is...is...comforting Winky? When...the Blood Deed is...has...can be...against muggle people?"

"Whatever it is, you don't need don't upset yourself," she said quietly, stroking her bright red beret. Dobby crossed over to them.

"Every house elf who is in the kitchen," he said firmly to Winky, "is a free elf, who the headmaster has allowed to work here at Hogwarts because we's NOT done the Blood Deed!"

"But I's _nearly_ did," wailed Winky, looking beseechingly at Dobby. "For my master! And then, when Winky didn't do it like Master wanted, master...he...he..._freed_ Winky! For doing his bidding!"

"And Winky _is_ free, which is the Right Thing for a house elf to be, not like the bad old days before Harry Potter..." Cecilia moved away slowly from Winky, as the little elf embraced Dobby in new-found delight.

"Yes," said Winky, smiling slowly. "We's free, Dobby. We's never having to do the Blood Deed. Never!"

After a few moments of glee, the elves both returned to their jobs as if nothing had happened. It occurred to Cecilia, not for the first time, how strange they were, their mannerisms and ways. That they could express joy and despair within microseconds of one another, tempered with periods of vacuous serenity.

"The Blood Deed, Lady," continued Dobby as he resumed the process of handing her crumpled sheets, "is a great terrible thing that a house elf would do for his master, for his family. It is great because it is the ultimate thing that binds the elf to his master, the most loyal thing he can do. It is difficult to describe to Lady, because Lady is not a house elf, so doesn't know how an elf feels about his family."

"An elf," added Winky, as she took the next ironed sheet from Cecilia, "lives for his master, and the Blood Deed is the best thing an elf can do for him. But those elves that served families where the families served You-Know-Who, and those families chose Blood Deeds for their house elves which were...dreadedful...against muggles...the Blood Deed makes a house elf kill for his master!" She sighed, and Cecilia thought she was going to cry again.

"Only one house elf we know has undertaken the Blood Deed against a muggle..." continued Dobby.

"Who was that?" asked Cecilia quietly. She didn't mean to question them; she could see how painful it must be to talk about it, but curiosity got the better of her.

"We do not speak of who he is, he who has done it!" said Dobby, forcefully, taking Cecilia aback. "We do not name him, for it brings shame to every house elf here. But, it is sad that he has been lost forever, forever tied to his former master forever, forever doing their bidding!" He paused, then handed Cecilia another sheet.

"That is the curse of the Blood Deed," he continued quietly, as Cecilia pressed firmly on the centre of the sheet. "There is no way back after a house elf commits the Blood Deed for his master. He is bound forever to them, and becomes sick; becomes very sick indeed. Pines, he does, and begs to do more for his master. Oh we's so very lucky we did not do our Blood Deeds, though it is tradition for house elves."

"But you said the Blood Deed was against a muggle...you mean a house elf actually killed a muggle...?"

"Dobby will ask Lady not to talk of this again!" declared Dobby, in a tone of finality. He frowned at Cecilia reprovingly, before smiling and giving her another sheet to iron.

After that, neither Dobby or Winky spoke about Blood Deeds, or a sick house elf. Following the sheets, Cecilia watched as Dobby carried out his next task, explaining carefully how the wings of each golden snitch had to be polished each week in order for them to fly properly for the Quidditch matches.

Eventually, even Cecilia's fascination for elfish goings-on in the kitchen was satisfied. She'd enjoyed herself immensely in the kitchen with the elves, as she always did, and was loath to feel the need to retire to bed.

Accompanied by Dobby, who scurried ahead to personally run a bath for her, she considered the day. It which had got stranger and more curious as it had proceeded, the mulled, as she soaked in the bath.

A quarter of an hour later, refreshed and clean from the day she pulled a blanket round her shoulders and sat on her bed. The thoughts, not contained by the next thing she had to do, mealtime or Cecilia's self-control over her will, came thick and fast.

So what was this Blood Deed? It had certainly upset the elves. It could be against muggles, they'd said, and families who supported You-Know-Who presumably killed two birds with one stone; absolving themselves from blame of the death of a muggle whilst securing their house-elf's undying devotion. A tradition, she thought, repulsed by the idea. Perhaps elves had been treated so much like vermin that it was as if they were property, commodities. But why did that surprise her, knowing how wizards treated even their own in this day and age?

And what about Raymond Lully, a Reciprocator? Cecilia's mind rolled back to the previous Saturday when she'd found the mysterious entry in the library book. Perhaps she should have mentioned to Tonks that she knew Sirius was related to him. Having said that though, she would have bound to ask questions as to how she knew, and Cecilia had known she couldn't quite lie so readily when she felt this done in.

Was there ever a birthday to compare, she concluded. Cecilia's gaze drifted unconsciously towards the fireplace as she considered this. Even the thrill and solemnity of her wedding day, when she was all of 21 didn't compare. Not that it was really fair to compare today to then, though. That was back in the real world, in the non-magic world. Nothing would replace the day she married Timothy Frobisher.

Yet, she was sitting here, wrapped up in a blanket, trying hard not to think about the breathtaking kiss she received from a wizard who had tried to kill her barely two months ago; sitting in a wizard school, having just had a bath run for her by an elf...there was surely nothing more extraordinary than that...

...Cecilia's mind dropped the barriers and the memory she had endeavoured to contain all day meandered casually into her unguarded consciousness. A picture slowly appeared of the passage underneath the castle, illuminated weakly by the early morning sun.

What would she have done if Sirius had not pulled her away from the rock where she was conspicuously hiding? Would they have found her? And what then? Murder? Would they have killed her? What would Severus have done?

And yet he did, or rather, Mr Snuffles did. Why anything still had the power to surprise her when he took in her stride so many things around her these days confused her. Maybe this is why wizards had long since given up on muggles. Where wizards had far more important things to do with protecting each other and generally living their lives as best as they could, the average person Cecilia knew would still have been stuck on the "oh my God, a magical vase" stage.

Yes, she thought. At least I've managed to get past that. And I consider I've been quite brave to come on this venture alone, especially without Libby to talk to. In fact, that I'm still alive based on the consequences of my own decisions is a small miracle, she laughed to herself.

So why did she feel so nervous about Sirius then? About his actions the previous night? Yes, he was good looking, a charismatic man, a charmer, used to getting his way with women, no doubt And the tragic history only added to the mystique, she added. Why couldn't she just enjoy the way he made her feel?

"Tim," she said aloud, after a while. I feel too guilty to let him go and have enjoyed this. This is why I want to go home then, to make me realise he's not actually there, waiting for me...

Well, no-one said it would be easy, she consoled herself, as she snuggled down underneath the blanket, curling her feet underneath her. It wasn't only their research that had never been tested before. I'd like to see the rulebook for finding out about a magical world in the real world, and what to do with it. The hitchhiker's guide to the wizard world...don't panic...something like that...

As sleep enveloped her for the third time that day, her inner mind considered Mr Snuffles in his wizard form, and replayed, for her unexpurgated pleasure, their penultimate encounter.

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The next day she awoke and, realising she could take her time about getting up as she had no lessons till midday and, noticing the twins' newspaper they had made for her, spent an entertaining half-hour reading through it, laughing every so often.

They'd certainly made an effort; so much so that, for the fact they chose to express it in a different form, their understanding of what Cecilia had taught them probably equalled that of Hermione, and she made a mental note to say as much next time she met Molly Weasley.

Following the first year class, she made her way to the potions classroom in the hope she'd meet Snape to discuss her plan, only to discover thin blue smoke emanating from under the door, a product no doubt of Snape teaching a lesson. Cecilia had just turned to go when the classroom door opened.

"Ah, Mrs Frobisher," said Snape, eyeing her critically. "Would you like to come in? The fourth years are today making, or at least _attempting_ to make an invisibility potion."

She looked past his arm as he held the door open, noticing the sheepish expressions of a couple of unlucky students, one of which was holding his cauldron with an expression of extreme self-pity.

"That would be enlightening," replied Cecilia, and stepped inside.

The potions classroom was much darker than she was accustomed. The blinds had been heavily shut, with a strong beam of limelight illuminating parchment which was strung across one side of the room. The equipment too, for their research was also gone; in its place was a neat row of bookshelves and Cecilia wondered where they might be.

She sat on a bench near the back, ignoring the nudges and whispers of "squib" and "Draco" from a row of Slytherin students and she watched as the class of fifth years finished making what appeared to be thin pea soup in consistency. Snape resumed his position at near the parchment.

"Quiet," said Snape, surveying the class. Obediently, all of the students looked up from what they were doing, giving him their full attention without question.

"Now, some of you," he glanced over at the students from Slytherin house, "who have the art of potion making managed this with ease. Unfortunately, not every student in this class has such talent." His tone was stony, and Cecilia recognised it as the tone he had used with her when he was attempting to teach her potions by reading the book.

"Neither do many of you appear to know how to follow the simplest of instructions, " he continued, eyeing the students from where the now-thinning smoke had originated, "so, those who have not completed the first step of the potion, pair up with those from Slytherin house, and those from the other houses who have managed to get there by luck." He glanced at Ginny Weasley, who grinned, as if victoriously revelling over the fact that hers was one of the ones that had gone well.

From then on, until the end of the lesson, Cecilia watched as the wizard children carried out and made a potion that turned things invisible. They tested it on white mice, which Snape presented to each pair. In the most part it worked with some mice winking out of existence for about two minutes, although for some the mice simply changed colour, tail length and size rather than disappear.

When the lesson was finally over, and the successful potions had been bottled and labelled, Snape approached her.

"Cecilia, I trust you found that worthwhile?" he said, handing her his spell book which was open at the invisibility potion page. "I thought it might be useful you witnessing one of my lessons. I considered it may give you more insight into one of my lessons."

"Certainly, Severus," replied Cecilia. "Most illuminating. Not dissimilar to science, actually, however these days many of the practical aspects have fallen out of favour." And OfSTED would have something to say about your teaching style, she thought, knowingly.

"I also trust that you managed to return to the castle without trouble on Sunday evening?" He turned slightly, and removed his wand, flicking his wrist towards the parchment, which rolled itself up and tidied itself away. "My cause of leaving was nothing to do with you, Cecilia," he added, looking at her intently.

"The Order?" she prompted, stopping herself in time. It had been less than two days, but she had thought Sunday evening almost constantly, however she couldn't let Snape know that she knew about where he'd gone. She got up, and helped him tidy away the cauldrons.

"The Order, " he confirmed, nodding slightly. "And I trust you had a happy birthday?" Oh yes, thought Cecilia. My birthday.

"I did indeed, thank you. That's the reason I came, Severus. I need to discuss with you our work. Do you remember what I was explaining how there was a way we could test our hypothesis using hair, and running a different test?"

"To test for, what was it, DNA?" Cecilia nodded. 

"I have figured a way in which we can obtain the results in days rather than months. We can use the blood samples we have, but you did say that many of the donors of the blood had reservations about its use?" Snape continued to stare at her and nodded slightly.

"Go on, " he prompted...

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..."I'll be frank, Professor, as I was with Severus," said Cecilia, nodding towards Snape. "I will not be able to carry out the work here as I do not possess the correct equipment or chemicals. The work will take a few hours to complete, it has to be done in a controlled way with pure solutions."

It was early evening now. Cecilia went through again what they knew from their research with Snape that afternoon and, whether it was because she now knew what his work for the Order entailed, or merely because, like her, it seemed to be going, but Snape appeared more contented with their plan, agreeing with it wholeheartedly that afternoon.

What had surprised Cecilia even more was his insistence in speaking to Dumbledore almost immediately about the plan, arranging it for that evening. It boded well, she considered, both the research and their working relationship. And also, she added, for the fact she would be going home.

"Nick Smith is a close friend of mine. He believes I am working confidentially for the Patent Office in London. He is also, if you will pardon the comparison, a little like Mundungus Fletcher." Dumbledore raised one eyebrow.

"What I mean to say, Professor, is that Nick plays to his own rules. He'll do this for me, no questions asked, which will suit us, I'm sure you'll agree."

"That it would," agreed Dumbledore. "How better to keep a secret than to allow it to unfold in plain view? However, are there no other scientists in our employ that could carry this out? Many of whom are skilled, Cecilia. I realise the person you propose to undertake this is our friend, however there are more safeguards in place with our other scientists."

"I expected you'd ask me that, Professor," admitted Cecilia, glancing over at Snape as she spoke. The long list of scientists that he'd shown her were immensely impressive. "I checked with Severus this very afternoon, and although two looked likely, they do not have suitable facilities."

She waited for Dumbledore to speak. He was pacing now, contemplating all she had said. She'd been reasonable, she considered. It wasn't as if she was wasting their time by doing this. But she benefited from killing two birds with one stone.

"How do you propose to get the hair samples to Mr Smith, Cecilia? I assume you don't intend by Owl, or muggle post?"

Here it was, thought Cecilia, the bottom line. Whatever she said or did now, or whatever happened here, would influence the course of the research for good.

"Certainly not," said Cecilia patiently. "The samples are far too valuable, not only for the research but for the wizards from whom they came. Severus has told me as much as to the danger they could be in should the samples be used in potions, for example." She breathed consciously.

"Which is why," she continued, "I propose to return home, in the company of an Order member, and visit Nick at a pre-arranged time. The samples can be analysed within hours and be back in the care of the Order without us leaving them alone. I realise it could be dangerous, however we agree it's the most logical course of action." She glanced across at Severus, who was standing adjacent to Dumbledore's desk. His face was stony; expressionless.

"You do realise the significant risk you run, returning home, Cecilia?" This was the first time Snape had spoken since they'd arrived at the meeting that evening. He'd allowed Cecilia to outline the plan, as they'd agreed it that afternoon.

"To the Order, to our research, to me," confirmed Cecilia, turning to face him. She was unsure where this was leading.

"But also to your family. Having an Order member with you can only guarantee your safety. Should a follower of the Dark Lord discover where you live, your whereabouts, any piece of information, it would be impossible for the Order to protect them."

"I have very little family, Severus," said Cecilia. What on earth is he getting at, she wondered. "I will arrange for my sister to be away for the evening, which means whoever stays with me at my house would do so for only a night, before we go, probably very early to where Nick works..." She let her voice tail off. A faint bell, not too far from her consciousness began to ring. Realisation hit her.

"You said 'know of my whereabouts', Severus," she said slowly. "Are you saying that Death Eaters know of my working for the Order? Or here at Hogwarts?" A look passed between Snape and Dumbledore. Eventually Dumbledore spoke.

"I understand, Cecilia, that many of the students now believe you to be a squib? Am I correct in thinking that?" She nodded, silently.

"In our society, as I am sure you are well aware, an inequality exists where such wizards, and squibs are still wizards, are shunned. You were astute in assuming such a mantle however: that certain members of Severus's house believe you to be so may cause them to mention it to their families. Such information is dangerous, as it is technically against the Wizengamot for me to appoint squibs to teach at Hogwarts. As I explained when we arranged your cover, Muggle Studies does not cover their jurisdiction."

"However," continued Snape, "do you remember when you first met myself, and Moody? In the summer at your own house? It was believed that Death Eaters may have broken in then to avail themselves of Lupin's book..."

Cecilia's mind flashed back to that evening. The muddy footprints that looked like an animal in the hall. Her broken crockery in the kitchen. Snape's priceless expression of amazement when she brought out "Mysterious Mythology" from her bag, safe and sound.

"So you believe that they might put two and two together?" She looked between Snape and Dumbledore. Neither said a word.

"Yes, it's a risk. To my family, my friends, the whole of Edgeford. But it's a calculated one. It's a choice between one night away to somewhere I know, my home. Where I grew up and learned to sneak out of the house at fourteen to go underage drinking with my best friend." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow again, and coughed lightly.

"The alternative is my accumulation of this information over several months, painstaking work, which could either be a waste of time if things change in your- in the war, Professor, or could equally be discovered." She stopped, biting back the flow of words. There was more at stake than just the research, she reminded herself, to be blown because she didn't know when to stop.

Silence reigned for what seemed to Cecilia like an aeon. Glaciers could form and expire in the time, she thought; whole galaxies far, far away, could spawn millions of stars and solar systems, and be wiped out slowly one by one. Eventually, Dumbledore spoke.

"Hmm," he said. "Firstly, I must say, you have given this a lot of thought, Cecilia. This is to be commended, and the fruit of your success as a team," he looked between Cecilia and Snape, smiling slightly.

"From what you have both said," concluded Dumbledore, "that you are both in agreement with the plan, and you have considered the risks," he glanced at Cecilia, "then you should go ahead with it. Severus and I will secure the samples of hair from the donors as before, and I will organise a member of the Order to accompany you Cecilia. As I'm sure you understand, I cannot spare Severus from school, nor from the Order work he is undertaking". Cecilia nodded, knowingly.

"However, you will need to ask Harry's permission for his hair sample yourself, Cecilia. I cannot see that being a problem; your work is proceeding with him well, I understand, and from the reports from the students themselves, Harry included, you are the best Muggle Studies teacher they have ever had."

"Yes, Harry has certainly been most co-operative and patient," agreed Cecilia, trying not to let pride affect her.

"You must organise with Mr. Smith a mutually agreeable time for the work to be carried out, and once you have done this, you must inform the person from the Order who will accompany you. There is a meeting tonight at Grimmauld Place and I will raise this tonight for discussion. They, or I will inform you who it will be." He smiled, looking over his spectacles, and half-arose as if that concluded their meeting.

"There is one last thing," added Cecilia. Dumbledore sat back down and his smile melted away, to be replaced by seriousness.

"We will need one more sample other than that which we had before." Both Dumbledore and Snape were staring at her now.

"Continue," said Dumbledore. He remained seated, watching her intently.

"Before I say, I need to be sure. Are there no living relatives, other than his aunt on his mother's side?"

"No Cecilia. You're quite right. Petunia Dursley is Harry's only living blood relative; she and his cousin Dudley. That is the very reason that I placed Harry under Mrs Dursley's protection as a child after his parents were murdered. Only she, as Lily Potter's sister, was able to afford the protection he needed as he was growing up."

"In that case, it is a DNA sample from her that we require. It does not need to be hair, it could be...it could be blood...saliva...skin...anything that would give us enough to analyse."

"That will not be a problem," said Dumbledore, and Cecilia thought he looked relieved. Then she realised why. He thought I was going to ask for something of Voldermort!

"Is that everything?" Dumbledore, got to his feet, smiling again as he did so. She nodded. "In that case, I'm sure you both have much to prepare. I myself have an appointment with Hagrid, over a rather persistent crop of bindweed." He crossed the floor, showing both Cecilia and Snape towards the door.

"So persistent in fact it has bound his hut so tightly he's worried about Fang, who he tells me has been inside for three days and is convinced will die of starvation," he chuckled as he opened the door.

"Headmaster," said Snape, nodding in acknowledgement, and began to descend. Cecilia was just about to follow him when Dumbledore called her. She stepped back through the door.

"It is heartening when members of the Order, indeed any of our friends and allies who were once at odds coming to a...mutual understanding." He paused, as Cecilia stood there. She could feel her jaw dropping, not knowing what to say. Dumbledore glanced over his shoulder as he made his way past Fawkes, tickling him lightly on the comb as he began to climb the stairs at the upper part of his office. She turned to go again.

"Oh, one last thing," he said, pausing slightly. "Madam Pomfrey informs me that in her candid opinion the reason for the lethargy you will be experiencing over the next week or so will be due to the butterbeer. The yeast you know. It has a particular effect on non-wizards. She assures me that you'll be right as rain by weekend. Good evening," he added, before Cecilia could say anything, then continued up the stairs.

"Yes, good evening," said Cecilia, turning to go down the stairs once more. I'd love to know how he does that, she thought as she made her way down towards the potions classroom.

From his utmost window, Dumbledore watched as Cecilia walked swiftly out of the door and into the courtyard.

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Cecilia was indeed tired that week. She'd taken it upon herself the next evening to visit Madam Pomfrey to find out about the butterbeer and was shocked when she explained to her that the yeast in butterbeer was almost parasitic in nature.

It lived, explained Poppy, by feeding off the magic of the consumer in a symbiotic relationship until it had recouped that which had been given through the narcotic effects of the alcohol, leaving wizards with no lasting effects. In non-magical beings, since the magic was not available, they collected latent magic from the environment until the deficit was reached.

"As you're in Hogwarts, they should be content in no time," said Poppy, in what Cecilia assumed to be reassuring. "You'll just feel more tired than usual this week while the yeast collects it. Once it has, nature will take its course".

"I thought it might have been something to do with the Veritaserum," said Cecilia, uneasy at the thought of the butterbeer yeast still being inside her.

"Not in the least. As I said a month ago Mrs Frobisher, you are extremely lucky to have no ill effects. The potion I gave you had no side effects, and you seem to be well. Now, how was it that you came to be drinking butterbeer?"

Cecilia went on to recall how Tonks had told her it would be OK for her to drink it, as Poppy tutted every so often, decrying Tonks's severe lack of judgement and Cecilia's own for being so easily led.

Changing the subject, Cecilia then asked Poppy whether she was familiar with the term "Reciprocator" with respect to Raymond Lully. She hoped that Poppy might be able to enlighten her, but the healer had shaken her head.

She had offered for Cecilia to read through Pompops's notes again though, and said she would pursue the sigil writing with Professor Snobbits on her behalf.

Teaching too was difficult. She had written to Nick almost immediately after the meeting with Dumbledore, and had agreed with Snape that they couldn't proceed until the weekend at the very least. Usually her mind was able to tick over as she taught, considering the latest problem or challenge, but now on hold, she had to wait.

Cecilia hated waiting but wait she must and that, coupled with being unable to and that many students had taken a less than positive attitude to their Muggle Studies work, this made teaching extremely difficult.

Admittedly there was a spectrum of attitudes, ranging from apathy in class to out-and-out refusal and cheeky comments, but the attitude of one or two was having a knock-on effect with the others.

As she watched the second years reading Madam Cadwallader's Muggle Studies books about the Falklands War, considering how it had come about she thought back to her own teaching days and how difficult it had been to gain the control and respect necessary to direct young though often not so very keen minds.

"Shut 'em up and get it in 'em" was the motto of her tutor at the time, and though this invariably worked with practice it was increasingly difficult when some students here were making bold with cheeky comments making a show of it in front of their friends.

When it came to the fifth and sixth year classes though, the Weasley children as well as Harry and Hermione, rallied round, with scathing remarks aplenty for which Cecilia was grateful.

However, she was having an entirely different problem with Ron. It was clear that her being a squib was not the problem, but whenever she tried to address him about his work, or asked him anything directly, whether in class or out of it, he would button up, quite refusing to speak to her.

No, refusing wasn't the right word, she considered. His work was excellent; outstanding at times, she thought, but it was if he was lost for words.

On Friday, when she had the fifth years last again, she was again impressed by his ability to carry out the volumetric titration she had shown them, for determining the concentration of acids in foods. Not only had Ron managed to titrate his ethanoic acid with precision each time, when they'd carried out the calculation, his volume was the closest too.

She was about to praise him for his work, but reconsidered. Whatever Ron's problem was, it wasn't going to be helped by addressing him in front of his class mates.

Going to dismiss the class, and she considered her luck must be changing as no-one had mentioned anything alluding to her being a squib, she asked whether anyone had any questions.

It must have been the yeast having a particularly good feast on the residual magic, because of the fundamental mistake. Cecilia had forgotten to add the caveat, long learned through years of teaching in order to filter relevant questions, "...about today's work?"

"Yes, I have a question," said Seamus, looking up instantly. Considering this was the brightest Cecilia had seen the young wizard all lesson, she replied, "Yes, Mr. Finnngan?" without thinking.

"I was wondering, er, Mrs Frobisher, well, Ron said his mum was looking after your children in the summer. Was this because the ministry took them off you?"

The room went silent, all eyes on Cecilia, Seamus, and to a lesser extent, Ron. It was Ron who spoke first.

"Seamus, you idiot," he whispered, as the class looked at him. He stared back at Cecilia. She looked at Ron. He seemed to be blushing almost purple, and Cecilia wondered vaguely whether she should take him to see Madam Pomfrey.

Why would Ron say that to Seamus? It was obvious he had interpreted the last part about the ministry; ludicrous questions like that had tried to come her way all week, most of which she had managed to field or disarm. But children?

She glanced back at Ron, then across to Hermione and Harry. The looks on their faces told it all; Ron had had to lie for her at some stage.

"That's incorrect, Mr. Finnigan. Mrs Weasley is of course caring for my children while I am here, teaching muggle studies."

"Then why- " began Neville, but was silenced by Harry, nudging him sharply in the ribs.

"Now, if there's any more question _regarding today's work,_ now's your time to ask. No?" she added, when no-one spoke. "In that case, your homework for next week: 'Compare the muggle sayings we were talking about last lesson to those used by wizards, with justifications.' Enjoy your weekend."

The class quickly escaped, grabbing a homework sheet from the pile at the back, however before he went, she gestured to Ron. He glanced at Harry and Hermione, shrugging as they left.

"Now, first thing's first, she began, as Hermione closed he door behind her. "About the children thing. I expect that you had to do some quick thinking on my behalf, so thank you."

"In addition, I have been impressed by your work over the past few weeks, Ron. Your understanding has been exact; you really show talent in science. But I have to ask you, is there anything bothering you at all? Anything about the way I teach you?" She waited for Ron to speak, but he shook his head and looked down.

"I have something for you. It's something that I was given many years ago, an encyclopaedia of scientists. It's quite old, but I consider it worthy for a student of your calibre."

Ron took the book and looked at it, glancing at the cover, and turned over to the title page. This is really difficult, thought Cecilia, having a one-way dialogue.

"I will understand, though if you do not wish to accept it," she continued, "and I'll provide another book of your choice in its place, if you prefer." Ron looked up sharply.

"Er, no, no, Mrs Frobisher, er...thank you," he said, a look of amazement on his face. "Er, this is bloo- super, thank you."

"You're welcome," said Cecilia. Finally! And it only took old Harris's book to do it. He'd have had a fit if he'd known she'd given it to a student, though.

"Er, Mrs Frobisher," continued Ron, still looking down at the book. "Er, about my work..."

Cecilia waited for him to finish.

"Er...is it...is it as good...is it better than Hermione's?" It was almost a whisper, and she nearly didn't catch it.

"Ron, I'd have been proud if a muggle student had produced half of what you've done. Your work is insightful and astute; you show clear understanding." She paused. Hogwarts wasn't like muggle schools. The students here were used to working to the task in an old grammar school way, rather than the tasks working to suit them. Ron would not have understood if she'd tried to explain that the gains he had made in such a short time for himself were far more impressive than those Hermione had achieved.

"Yes, it's better than Hermione's," she said, smiling slightly. It wasn't a lie, she reassured herself. Just an interpretation of the truth. "However it is not very professional of me to say so to you, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to her."

"Thanks, Mrs Frobisher," he said, delighted. He looked at the encyclopaedia again. "And thanks for this too," he said.

"Have a good weekend, Ron," she said, signalling their conversation as at an end, and turned to collect the books up from the lesson.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll be sure to consider everything you said." Cecilia looked up sharply.

"What advice...?" she began, but Ron had left.

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As she reached her room, Cecilia pondered the week. Patience wasn't really in her nature, and waiting for a response form Nick was like waiting for exam results. She tried to push it to the back of her mind and stop speculating about what he would say, what date he would arrange, even if she could come at all, but questions filtered through from the unused part of her mind.

Brushing her hair out as she thought, she wondered how long it would be until she heard from him when Snape walked through the door, without knocking.

"What the- hey!" exclaimed Cecilia, as he strode in. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. 

"I could have been getting dressed, you know!" she said, in tones of indignation, wagging her hairbrush in his direction "You could have knocked!" Ignoring her, he handed her two letters.

"For you," he said simply, sitting down on the chair near the door. "looks like one from your friend." Cecilia glanced back at Snape quickly, then undid it. She scanned the note.

"Well?" said Snape, after a time. "Is it from him?"

"Yes," said Cecilia vaguely, scanning the letter again. It was quite simple; Nick's usual style; bloke-like and to the point. She looked up. "He's arranged for the lab to be free on 30th October, a Monday morning. It's a half-staff day, which means he'll be alone covering the night shift from the Sunday; we'll have to be there about 4 in the morning. "

"Not we, " said Snape. "You know I can't be with you Cecilia," he reminded her.

"No, I meant "we" as in me, and the Order member. Do you know who it might be? Professor Dumbledore said he would mention it at the meeting."

"No," replied Snape, getting up. "I don't know. But, as Professor Dumbledore said he or they will be in touch. Do not concern yourself Cecilia; there are things you can trust to be arranged without you." Cecilia gave him a sharp look, but he seemed oblivious to it. "What I think we should prepare is everything we've spoken about so far and try to further our understanding."

Cecilia had already prepared a list of things they should discuss, including the mystery of Raymond Lully, and the obtaining of hair samples. She nodded.

"Have you got all of the samples yet? It would be good to do some preliminary tests on them; we've got plenty of time before 30th..."

"Not all, yet, but I'll bring what I have. You have Potter's, I trust? Your meeting last night went well, I presume?"

Cecilia stopped. She'd forgotten about the fact she had to get some hair from Harry; when she'd cancelled their meeting and postponed it to the following Monday it had entirely slipped her mind.

"We rearranged for Monday," she said, a little sheepishly at her own shortcomings in light of what probably looked like her pushing Snape. "I intended to ask him this evening, however," she added.

"Good," he intoned, nodding slightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you tomorrow evening," said Snape, as Cecilia glanced down at the letter again. She looked back up. There was no way in the world you could give Severus Snape only half your attention.

"Yes," Cecilia said again. "Any particular time? I think it'd be important to arrange it when you don't need to go away for your Order work." She stopped. It hadn't meant to come out that way. All she'd meant to say was that it would be beneficial with no interruptions. She stared back at Snape, brazening it out.

"The afternoon," he said, and Cecilia felt sure his tone had become a little colder. She nodded, as he strode out. Cecilia stood there for a few moments, before turning her attention back to Nick's letter.

Finally, she thought, after everything that's happened this week. The proposal to Snape and Dumbledore couldn't have gone better, she thought, considering their meeting. Nick had written back and she was going home. Home!

She thought how funny it must have looked to Nick when he'd received her letter. That it had seemingly been dropped on his doorstep rather than posted through the letterbox would have been strange, she thought. But what about her request to address it to "Mrs Cecilia Frobisher, c/o The Patent Office (Teacher's Quarters) Department of Science and Magical Research"?

That was the thing, wasn't it? The reason why the plan was so good. She, Jamie Murray and Nick Smith had spent almost 2 years devising devilishly silly practical jokes to play on other people or each other that he would just assume this was another.

She nodded, throwing the letters onto the desk, and pulling on some fresh clothes. Just a matter of talking to Harry now, she thought, and then I'm done. Taking two steps outside her door, she stopped. Snape had given her two letters, hadn't he?

Curiosity getting the better of her, she went back inside, and closed the door, pacing towards her desk. The letter was underneath the one from Nick, discarded just moments ago. The envelope was quite plain, bearing just her name in neat, but old-fashioned script. Which looked very familiar.

Quickly she tore through the envelope. A letter, folded neatly, fell into her hand, and she unfurled it quickly.

"Cecilia,

I trust your return to Hogwarts was both discreet and safe. The passage under the school is a very old secret and as such, only the most talented troublemakers know of its existence. Professor Dumbledore spoke about your plan on Tuesday evening, the last Order meeting and although nothing is settled, Tonks will probably accompany you. In fact, she appeared very keen to do so. She mentioned to me that you'd spoken of my relative, Lully.

Unfortunately I do not have any more information other than what you already know, from Harry's letter, and I am not familiar with the term "reciprocator". Should I discover more, I will indeed inform you. Considering your comments about my honourable actions to ensure your safety, I have not contacted you by Floo, however should you wish to talk to me, check your fireplace at eight o'clock on Saturday. This should give you plenty of time to be appropriately attired. Please reply by return of Owl if this is acceptable.

With kindest regards,

Sirius"

Cecilia read the letter through twice. Her first impression was with the formality of the letter. It was almost aristocratic in its manner, carefully informing her and politeness. But underneath, the whole character of the man was revealed. But to what end?

Well, Mr. Black, she thought, as she folded it back up again. A talk with you would indeed be very nice. But you'd better be prepared for the fact that I'm not about to get into anything that's not connected to work. Proceeding to her bottom drawer she placed the letter next to his hair inside "Magic and Muggles" and pulled out a piece of parchment. Two can play at that game, she thought.

"Sirius, (she wrote) thank you for your letter. The effort that you have gone to in obtaining the information I require is most kind. Eight o'clock tomorrow is most acceptable. This should give you plenty of time to be properly attired also. Cecilia."

Tying a piece of ribbon around the parchment and addressing the front of it, she stowed the reply in her pocket and made her way towards the Gryffindor common room.

88888888

Ron and Harry sat near one of the fires in the Gryffindor common room, a game of Wizard chess well under way. Quite unusually, the common room was almost deserted; most of the young wizards were either at the library collecting books for work or upstairs in the bedrooms, tackling what Hermione called "Autumn Work Shock". The Weasley twins sat on one of the sofas reading a text book each, near enough to hear what they were saying, but far enough away not to interfere. Unusually too, the boys were discussing work.

"Maybe the expression, 'raining cats and dogs' did originate from actual cats and dogs," said Ron, thoughtfully, as he moved a pawn diagonally to take one of Harry's. A 'crack' of stone indicated the pawn had been well and truly been decimated. "Perhaps some wizard had a bit of a laugh at some muggles' expense and decided to play joke?"

"You know, Ron ever since Mrs Frobisher gave you that book about scientists, you haven't shut up about muggles." Harry gazed thoughtfully at the board.

"Yes, Ron," said Ginny, who appeared out of nowhere, "well, just one particular muggle, anyway." She ignored the evil stare from her brother.

"I've always been interested because of Dad, actually," said Ron defensively. "And I don't know what you're going on about; you don't actually like her, Ginny."

"Come on," said Harry, intent on teasing his friend a little more. "You're telling me your avid interest in all things muggle isn't at least in part to our dear muggle studies teacher?" Ron averted his stare from Ginny to Harry, and began to turn red.

"Well," he began. "She's made me see there's more to life than just wizards and magic in our world...hey," he said, as Ginny nudged Harry, teasing her brother.

"What's this?" said Fred, as he and George, came over to join the conversation. "Something to do with Mrs Frobisher?"

"I think it's Ron's mad obsession with her, personally," said George. "It's a shame you find speaking to her so difficult, o brother dearest."

"In order to make a successful relationship, you need to be able to talk," said Fred, knowledgeably.

"Anyway," said Ginny, scowling at her brothers, "I need to speak to you Harry."

"Er, OK?" he said, looking back at Ron.

"No, confidentially," she said, scowling at her brothers. "It's about something I heard."

"But there's no-one else here, Ginny," said Ron, "and besides, Harry will just tell me, anyway." He smiled at Harry, who grinned back.

"He's right, Ginny. You can tell all of us."

"All right," she said, sitting down next to Ron. Fred and George hurriedly sat on the floor near the fire, crossing their legs as much as to say, "we're going nowhere".

"Lavender Brown overheard Draco bragging last night about Mrs Frobisher. Apparently he was telling Pansy Parkinson how he had found out single-handedly that she was a squib, and in the library last Saturday, apparently, he and Crabbe and Goyle called her some pretty horrible names."

"But he can't have done," said Harry, frowning. "She was in the corridor near the main hall. She'd just come from the library and said she'd been looking for us to cancel our meeting for Thursday night."

"Right," said Ron, nodding in agreement. "And you said that it'd be fine because you wanted to get some more Quidditch practice in, then she took me to one side and talked to me about her- her book," he finished, holding up the encyclopaedia of scientists."

"Do you think Malfoy might have been lying?" said Harry, looking at Ginny. "She definitely spoke to us."

"I don't think so," she said. "He said he had her by wand point, and wanted to see her fake wand..."

"He said that? Malfoy? How on earth can he still think squibs still carry one?" Fred glanced at his brother.

"Well, Filch had his, don't you remember, when we managed to get into the-" George stopped, aware that he was holding a conversation with his brother in public.

"Never mind that," said Harry. "He must have been bragging. He wouldn't have dared to rough up a teacher, even one he thought was a squib."

"I don't know, Harry," said Ron uncertainly. "Squibs used to be pretty much hated not so long ago. They did used to have to carry fake wands, and they had to have badges if they were stopped." He looked at the twins, who nodded in confirmation. "It was even like Seamus said today that squibs had their children taken off them."

"That's awful," said Ginny, shaking her head. "It's no wonder Malfoy's been like he has..."

"...and encouraging the rest of Slytherin to do it too..." said George. "At least she liked our newspaper, eh?" he said, and Fred grinned.

"So Malfoy's lying, then," said Harry. "

"No," insisted Ginny. "She had to have been in the library. According to him, the only thing stopping him from making his father proud was that Snape found them and made them go to bed."

"...making his father proud..." said Ron, in disgust. "Is that what he calls it? When I get my hands on him I'll..." He banged his fist on the chessboard, making the pieces fly up into the air. Some of the major pieces called out in protest.

"Ah, young love," said George, as they all laughed at Ron. He hung his head slightly, going even redder.

"It'll never work," said Ginny, laughing. "According to Malfoy, the only reason Snape stopped him from revealing she was a squib was because fancies her. So you've got no chance!"

"Well that can't be right, anyway," said Harry. "Snape knows she's a muggle so the reason he defended her was because of the research."

"But I wouldn't put it past Snape, I mean yuck, can you imagine it? Being the object of Snape's affection?" George mimicked Cecilia running away in horror, hands raised as Fred pretended to be Snape, in pursuit.

"Even if he does," continued Harry, "I don't think she feels the same, I mean, who would? Well...yuck..."

"Yes, but how much do we really know about her?" said Ginny. "There's definitely something more to her and meets the eye."

"You're just saying that because you don't like her," said Ron, accusingly.

"Don't like who?" said Neville, walking towards them. No-one spoke. "Oh never mind," he said, defeated. "Harry," he said, looking at the scattered chess pieces then at Harry.

"Mrs Frobisher's outside to see you. Something to do with extension work? She had a bit of trouble trying to get past the Fat Lady. I said I'd tell you she was waiting." Ginny gave Harry a wide-eyed stare, as he got to his feet.

"See you later, guys," he said, walking towards the door.

"Neville," said Ron. "You don't think I'm obsessed with muggles, do you?" he said, arm round his classmate, walking him over to the sofa.

"I mean, you know, reading the book that Cec- I mean Mrs Frobisher gave me, for my outstanding work, had made me realise..." Ginny rolled her eyes for effect and her brothers guffawed with laughter.

"Ron on his favourite subject, I hear?" said Hermione, who had appeared in the Common Room moments after Neville. Ginny nodded.

"I was just saying to Harry, Malfoy reckons Snape fancies her," added George. "But I think she'd sooner fall for Fluffy than Snape." Fred grinned.

"They do look pretty close, though," added Ginny, getting up. "I wouldn't wonder-"

"Ginny!" said Hermione, sharply. "This is the twentieth century, for heavens' sake. Men and women can work with each other and get on without anything else getting in the way, you know. That's what being grown up is all about, isn't it?"

"And you'd know this, how exactly, Hermione?" said Fred, nudging George.

"It's just obvious, isn't it? And she's a teacher."

"Just jealous because you fancy Snape yourself, eh?" Fred winked at George. Hermione shook her head in annoyance. "You could have asked her yourself Ginny, before she took your beloved Harry off just now."

"He's not my beloved Harry," began Ginny, blushing almost as red as Ron had a few minutes before. "Don't know what anyone would see in her anyway," she added, "Plain as the day is long!"

"Ginny!" said Hermione, frowning, then added "She was here just now?" Ginny nodded. "Damn, there was something I was meaning to ask her about the homework she set us," she continued, getting back to her feet. "I'll try and catch her in her room."

"Hermione, you're the only student I know who would go and disturb teachers after school," said George. "About work, that is," he added, grinning at Fred.

"Well, all I'm saying is there's something fishy going on," said Ginny. "I think we should keep an eye on her for Harry's sake."

"And I think we should leave her alone," said Hermione, admonishingly. "She's here for many reasons Ginny, not just through choice. Look what she's been through already! I bet this week's been no picnic either."

"Hermione's right," said George, sagely. "She looked done in on Monday-"

"And today she looked even worse," agreed Fred, nodding toward his sister. "But I think we should be keeping an eye on her; I wouldn't like to be on the wrong side of Malfoy if I were a muggle."

88888888

...Two hours later Cecilia returned to her room. Having been unable to negotiate her way past the Fat Lady, she'd bumped into Neville, who had directed Harry out to see her. Proceeding to the Muggle Studies classroom she'd explained the significance of a hair sample. Harry had seemed willing to give her some hair, lopping off a great chunk of it there and then.

He'd been less than enthusiastic when she'd mentioned his aunt however, and had actually asked Cecilia not to contact her. She'd explained that Dumbledore was going to sort it out, though a sample was still necessary. Harry had not seemed pleased at the prospect, and had gone away quickly, mentioning Quidditch practice.

Cecilia knew she'd overstepped the mark. She'd told Dumbledore that he was perfectly willing to assist her, even in complicated and difficult tasks, and she'd felt remorse for bringing up a subject that he felt uneasy about. Nevertheless, she needed permission herself, she thought, before she continued as she paced back from the Owlery. She hadn't been able to find the owl Sirius had sent her letter with so she commandeered one of the school owls, avoiding its beak as it tried to object being awoken from a comfortable doze.

Considering the aftermath of her reply to Sirius she turned the knob on the door go her room and her thoughts were prematurely and terminally abandoned when she surveyed it.

The scene was like the day after a Michael Fish weather forecast; it was as if a hurricane had lifted every item of furniture, book, clothing...everything into huge pile into the middle of the floor; glass lay scattered around, in big shards and small pulverised mounds. Books too lay open, spines cracked as if they had been trodden on, and she could see sheets had been torn from their bindings and scattered all over the place.

A thermometer lay discarded near the foot of her bed; mercury oozed from a broken end, seeping onto one of her sweaters and down towards the fireplace. In amongst the debris, almost hidden except where a small pile of textbooks was heaving periodically, was Dobby. He stared back at Cecilia, wide-eyed.

"Dobby," Cecilia ventured, as calmly as she could manage, casting her eyes over the place again. "What happened here, Dobby?" The house elf simply stared back at her, whimpering.

"Dobby," she said, more forcefully, though feeling herself shake and she could feel the colour drain from her face. She let go of the handle, and the door banged against the wall.

"Mrs Frobisher? Mrs Frobisher, I..." Cecilia turned to see Hermione behind her. The girl looked at Cecilia and past her, at the room, complete with her belongings in utter disarray and Dobby sitting amongst it all.

"I'll go and get someone," said Hermione, almost under her breath. Cecilia looked at her go dumbly, before turning to her room again. How on earth had this happened? Had Dobby had an accident? Cecilia stooped to pick up one of the books near to her, and folded back the pages. It was one of her Muggle Studies books. Most of the pages had been ripped at the spine, so they hung loosely down. The last page, which was being updated with the information from obviously this evening's State opening of Parliament continued to imprint itself on the page, but with far less clarity and vibrancy as the writing had been before.

She looked across at her desk. The drawers had been wrenched out of their runners, and there seemed to be scorch marks round the lock at the front. The bottom drawer was upside down, its contents spilled every which way. Cecilia made her way with difficulty across her belongings, looking for the two books that were the most valuable to the research. When she couldn't find them, she started pulling things around her up in the air, getting more and more anxious.

"Where are they, Dobby?" said Cecilia, frantically to the house elf. When he didn't reply, she stopped searching, and made her way across to him. "Dobby! she said, almost shouting at him. "The books. Where are they?"

"Lady," said Dobby, a mournful warble coming from his little mouth. "Dobby just arrived. Dobby came to find Lady. Dobby didn't do this," he wailed, wincing as Cecilia sporadically searched for what was missing. After a couple of minutes randomly pulling things up and throwing them down, she finally stopped, picking up "Magic and Muggles".

The leather cover had been torn back to the board, the fabric looking very sorry for itself in her hand. Still on her knees, Cecilia bent over it, tears she could no longer contain erupting in sobs as she cradled the book in her arms...

...she didn't realise the moment when Professor McGonagall was kneeling beside her, trying to comfort her. She felt her sobs subsiding when she realised Minerva was speaking to her softly that everything would be all right, and helped her to her feet.

"Just stand there for a moment, my dear, " she said, positioning Cecilia near the fireplace. "I cannot say for sure who has done this, but I have a fair idea. Miss Granger," she said, beckoning to Hermione, who was lurking by the door. "Take this house elf to Professor Dumbledore at once. The password is "Pumpkin Juice. Go. At once," she insisted, pushing Dobby towards the awe-struck Hermione.

"Now, " she continued, in a softer voice. "Let's get this place tidied up as it was, shall we?" Cecilia nodded silently, as Minerva withdrew her wand from her robes.

"Reparo," she said, almost randomly to Cecilia, her heart becoming less fraught as her belongings pieced themselves back themselves before her eyes. Once Minerva had finished, she took her hand and sat her down.

"There," she said when every last item was repaired. "Good as new," she added, looking closely at Cecilia as she looked through the pile of books that had stacked themselves upon her desk.

"It's gone," said Cecilia eventually. "Mysterious Mythology. It was in the bottom drawer with..."Magic and Muggles..." she paused as she opened the back of the book. Sirius's hair was back where she'd left it, as was the letter.

"Mysterious Mythology, Minerva..." she began again. "Remus's book. "It's gone..."

"And it will be recovered," said Professor McGonagall. "I assure you whoever did this, the culprits will be found. Please do nothing yourself. Now, " she said, sitting on Cecilia's now-made bed. "Why don't you start at the beginning?" Cecilia sat next to her.

"Well," she began, "I'd just got back from talking to Harry about the hair samples..." she began, but Minerva hushed her up.

"No, the beginning," she clarified, "from last Saturday? With Malfoy?" Cecilia sighed. She'd done a good job, she'd considered, coping with it all.

"Severus?" said Minerva, when she'd finished, "…Severus knew about this?" Cecilia thought she detected a faint note of annoyance in her voice. "It doesn't matter now, Cecilia. After tonight, Professor Dumbledore will deal with this."

"But the book..." insisted Cecilia.

"...will be recovered," said Minerva, patiently. "Now, aside from this, how are you feeling about everything?" Cecilia paused. Not too bad, under the circumstances, she thought.

"I'm missing home, " she said lamely. It was the first comprehensible thought that came into her mind. "It's not like I've not fitted in here though. We're progressing with the work. But I'm missing-"

"Tim?" finished Minerva. "This surely doesn't help. Why did you tell those students you were a squib, Cecilia?"

"I didn't," she said, wondering how on earth Minerva could possibly know how she felt. And put it so succinctly. "Draco seemed to know. It was my back-up plan, but he approached me with it. I thought it sensible to play along."

"That is one of the many things for which wizardkind ought to be ashamed of itself," said Minerva, patting her hand. "Children, born to our own kind, outcast in our society, for the single reason that they cannot perform magic. The work you are doing Cecilia, will inadvertently help them, despite your having to play a certain role. Don't think for one minute that the students are wasting their time in Muggle Studies with you. That you went in every day this week to teach them means they are closer to centuries-old traditions being wiped away. You should be proud of that." Cecilia nodded.

"However, I believe there are still things of which you need to be aware. Albus believes you have enough to deal with, even more so after tonight, I fear. However, as a member of the stronger gender, you are made of sterner stuff than any man can understand." Cecilia nodded again. Of course she wasn't going to let a little rat like Draco Malfoy break her spirit.

"But how-" she began.

"What I need from you in order for this to work is your trust. Do you trust me, Cecilia?"

"Yes," she said.

"Then look..."

Cecilia watched as what appeared to be a silver ribbon emanate from Minerva's head, as she held her wand aloft. Carefully, she brought it down into a pool between them. The consistency seemed to Cecilia like smoke, though it was not opaque and, the harder she looked, the more there seemed to be...a dark green...blur.

She looked harder, leaning further in out of curiosity. The blur looked to her like...it was...it was a tree. The branches seemed to be coming closer to Cecilia the further down she looked. She looked further still, and clenched her fists as the pool enveloped her. She could see the ground as the air rushed around her...she was surely going to hit the grey tarmac below her...

Suddenly, almost as she thought the end was nigh, she stopped falling, and glided to a graceful swoop, landing feet first. Cecilia looked around her. She appeared to be standing on the tarmac of a path now, and ahead of her, dark, lush fields. Taking in the scenery, it suddenly dawned on her.: she was standing not very far away from the quidditch pitches, inside the grounds of Hogwarts. In front of her were the tall hedges that surrounded the south wall, and to her left, the path led off to Hagrid's hut.

Cecilia was about to turn left, when she froze. A boy was heading towards her. He didn't look like any of the Hogwarts students she recognised. His face was long and slimmish, mousy hair topped his head, which was slightly long at the back. Not a boy actually, she thought, noticing traces of a beard as he approached. More a young man.

Just then she realised that this young man was about to walk into her, and she made to move; as she did so, a voice called out: "Moony! Quick! The McGonagall!" She stopped.

"Not here, Prongs, it's fine," he called back. "Just a few leaves."

Cecilia stopped. Moony...the fair hair...that rich-toned but soft voice...Remus?

Just as she was adjusting to the realisation, Harry stepped out from the side of the castle, arm in arm with a young lady. But...it wasn't Harry. It was a young man that looked very like him, though. He appeared older than Harry too, and had different colour eyes. The young lady with him smiled as they approached Remus. Cecilia could feel the evening breeze on her skin that blew their hair.

"Thank Hades for that," said the young man who looked like Harry. "I thought we were done in there for sure. Where's Padfoot?"

"Here," said Sirius, strolling up the path. Cecilia paused again, taking in his features. My word, he was handsome, she thought, looking him up and down. And he knows it too, she thought, taking in his leather trousers and slicked back black hair. And the charisma, he practically sparkled with sex appeal. Other than the fact it was about twenty years ago, Cecilia considered, he hadn't changed much at all.

"Been seeing Henrietta back," he said casually. "Old Snivellus as been sniffing round her again. I reckon the git's been following us and letting on to the McGonagall.

"Git," agreed the young lady with the young man who looked like Harry, in a not very ladylike way.

"You know, I worry about her," continued Sirius, nudging Remus. "She said she actually felt sorry for the slimy greaseball."

"She has a point," said the girl, glancing up at the Harry-a-like, whose hand she was still holding. "He is a very wretched creature."

"A very dangerous creature," sniffed not-Harry, smiling back.

"Never," said Remus, moving towards them. "He might be, well, Snivellus, but I don't believe he'd harm anyone!"

"Not him," said Sirius, in a causal way, "But the DFs. He wants to join them you know: bet he'd do anything, too."

"Git," agreed the young-man-who-looked-like-Harry-but-wasn't.

"The what?" The girl looked questioningly at the lads. "The Dee-efs?"

"You know, Lils: Malfoy; Lestrange, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle...Dark Followers, they call themselves. Very much interested in..." Remus coughed uncertainly and, as he glanced across at Sirius Cecilia thought she could detect a sense of unease from the young Remus Lupin and she had an overwhelming urge to find out the problem...

"Well we'd better move unless we want to be caught by the old girl," continued Sirius. "She's one strict pussycat, the McGonagall, when she's angry..."

"Thank you for that observation, Mr Black." Cecilia heard a voice...no...Minerva's voice coming from the floor, and she watched in amazement as a tabby cat that Cecilia had failed to notice up to that point changed into the witch, albeit a slightly younger version of herself before her very eyes. Her hair was slightly less grey, and her face less lined, but she wore almost the same clothes she always did, her hair pulled back tightly off her face.

"That's Professor McGonagall," she added. Fear and trepidation filled the eyes of the four young students in front of her as Minerva beheld them, eyeing them critically.

"And less of the 'old girl'," she added firmly, as she surveyed them. "Miss Evans..." she continued. The young lady who had been holding Harry's...no not Harry's hand...for dear life a few moments ago was standing almost a foot apart, looking down. "No Miss Edwards?" Silence.

"Mr Black?" she turned her attention on Sirius. His face fell slightly, though Cecilia thought she could still detect a hint of a smirk. "Perhaps you can enlighten me?"

"She must be in bed," Sirius remarked. "She's not with us," he added, glancing sideways at Remus.

"Yes, that I can see perfectly well," she said reprovingly. "However I have it on good authority that when Miss Edwards cannot be found is to you, Mr. Black, whom I should be speaking. She is not where she should be," Minerva surveyed them again, a slight shrill tone to her voice. "And neither are you. And neither shall I subject my intelligence to be insulted by another insolent remark of yours Mr Black."

"I wouldn't dare, Professor, not your intelligence" grinned Sirius, half under his breath. Professor McGonagall chose to ignore him.

"And I thought you, Miss Evans and you, Mr Lupin, as head girl and head boy would have a more superior sense of duty than to break the rules and be out of bed after hours. I realise it's your final year, and I realise you've sat your NEWTs, but that is no excuse. " She exhaled deliberately, expressing her exasperation.

"On this occasion, I will allow it to pass, however-" she added, eyeing the four students in front of her, who had chosen to express their victory too soon, "-if I should catch you marauding around the castle or grounds after hours again, your feet won't touch the ground. And I know Professor Gibbons has plenty of first years' cauldrons that need a good clean. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor," they said in unison. They all trooped past her, back into the castle. As Sirius passed, Minerva called him back.

"Mr Black," she repeated, when the other students had gone. "There is no point in lying to me, as I know for a fact that Miss Edwards was with you this evening. It is in your best interests to tell me the truth..."

Cecilia could see the bravado had gone now. The expression that she had witnessed almost a week ago, of almost vulnerability, replaced the swaggering self-assured Sirius of moments ago.

"Yes, Professor. We-"

"That is all I need to know at present. When did you last see her?"

"I walked her back to the girls' dorm about half an hour ago. What's the matter, Professor?"

"Listen to me, Black. It is vital that you do not repeat what I am about to tell you to anyone, not even Potter, do you understand me?" Instead of replying, Cecilia noticed how the young Sirius just stopped talking.

"We have just had word...the headmaster has just had word...Mr and Mrs Edwards were killed at their home tonight. They were murdered by wizard or wizards unknown. Do you understand me, Black?" When he didn't answer, Minerva grabbed him by the shoulders. "Do you understand me?" Sirius nodded, frantically.

"But, what has this got to do with me?" He frowned at Minerva in the effort of comprehension.

"Whoever it was who murdered Mr and Mrs Edwards were looking for Henrietta. Because she is a muggle-born..." Sirius looked at her.

"Git!" he said finally, spitting the word at the floor "The bloody git! It's him, Professor, the bloody slimy git! He's got her! Snivellus!" He tried to get past Minerva again, but was held fast.

"If you are talking about Mr. Snape, it was he who informed myself that she was missing. I can't see your point if you-"

"Go to the Shrieking Shack if you don't believe me," shouted Sirius, frantically. "That's where he'll be, with the other Slythern' gits!"

Without realising it, Cecilia was drifting slowly away from the scene. Minerva McGonagall trying to extract information from the frantic Sirius Black faded to a mist, and their conversation to a whisper as she left the scene. Almost immediately she found herself somewhere else...

...she had been here before, she knew it...those books. They were in the same position as the ones in...Dumbledore's office.

This time, Cecilia knew what to expect. She looked round at the people around her except...Dumbledore. He was very much different to how Cecilia knew him. His features were the same, down to his spectacles. But instead of his long, white beard and flowing white locks, his hair was brown, much shorter, and his beard was pointed.

Before him stood Sirius, who Cecilia has just seen debating the odds with Minerva. Next to him, another student, tall and thin. She did not recognise him; it wasn't a student who had been one of "the marauders". However, he did look in part familiar, but apart from the grave expression, on a fresh-faced, adolescent face, there was very little that distinguished him.

"It looks to me very much like a case of unjustified assault, Mr Black," Dumbledore said, gravely. "And as you were outside school grounds and not yet Of Age, there is absolutely no reason why Mr. Snape should not press charges with the Ministry." The young wizard next to Sirius turned slightly, his long hair moving as he turned his head.

Mr Snape? Looking carefully, Cecilia recognised that half-smile. But the boy Severus seemed so young! He turned his head slightly towards Dumbledore, but when his hair moved it wasn't the sallow features of the Severus Snape she knew; the boy – young man looked youthful...as full of life as any seventh year student. Cecilia stopped examining his face as he coughed, and began to speak.

"Professor, if I may; I believe Sirius was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. He _misinterpreted _something as something else, and acted on his instincts." He swallowed, and coughed again before continuing silkily.

"I believe it would be quite wrong of me to prosecute him when it was clearly a case of...mistaking my actions with Hen- Miss Edwards...especially when the ministry are looking for his brother..." Dumbledore gave Severus a quick look, before stepping between the two students as Sirius lunged at Snape.

"You git!" he yelled, as Dumbledore held him apart. "It's got nothing to do with my family, as well you know. You knew full well what you were doing with Hen and where you were taking her!" It was taking all of Dumbledore's strength to keep him from actually touching Snape; Severus had taken a few steps back, and looked startled.

"And where on earth do you get the idea that she would ever be interested in you?" the young Sirius continued. "She felt _sorry_ for you, Snivellus, she _told_ me! Don't you understand? There's no way in the House of Hades that she'd ever fancy you! You know she's a muggle-born, so there could only have been one thing on your mind!"

Cecilia saw Snape freeze. In fact, she thought she felt him freeze; Dumbledore's office suddenly felt a lot chillier, as if the windows had suddenly blown open. Then she heard Minerva, to the right of her this time, speak. Her voice echoed thin, as if being carried by the chill.

"Mr Snape, you do admit you were in the company of Miss Edwards tonight, at the Shrieking Shack. Perhaps you could explain to the headmaster your intentions? Where you were going?" Sirius was back on his feet now, and it was his turn to smirk, using it to his full advantage until he caught Minerva's gaze, and looked down. Snape said nothing.

"Mr Snape," said Dumbledore eventually. His tone was severe; she'd not known Dumbledore speak like that before, and the effect was...tortuous...she felt the urge to move out of its field, but could not move her feet.

"Miss Edwards' parents were murdered tonight by wizards unknown. However the spell that killed them we do know. Avada Kedavra." Snape looked up urgently. Underneath his long hair, Cecilia could definitely detect...fear. Sirius was also looking at Snape now, an expression of shock on his own.

"Mr Snape, I will not ask you again. If you do not answer I will have no alternative but to summon a ministry Auror and you will be automatically under suspicion of conspiracy to murder. Why did you take Miss Edwards out of the castle grounds, to the Shrieking Shack, alone?" She saw Sirius swallow, and mutter something. Dumbledore frowned.

"In that case-"

"I was going to propose to her!" he spat, glaring at Sirius. "I thought- I didn't know she was a muggle-born!" he snapped into the air.

"He's lying!" screamed Sirius, turning to shout at Snape again. "He was taking her there for them to..."

"Is she all right?" The voice came seemingly out of nowhere, but then Cecilia realised that it was Severus speaking now; low but soft . "Henrietta- Miss Edwards. How-" he coughed slightly. "How is she? How is she taking the news?"

"Miss Evans is with her," said Minerva slowly. "She's in the hospital wing. Shock..."

...again, the scene melted away before Cecilia's eyes...the people became fuzzier...her room came back into focus...

...Cecilia sat on the bed next to Minerva, contemplating the scenes she had just witnessed. Eventually, the witch spoke.

"Do you understand why I showed you those thoughts?"

"Thoughts?" said Cecilia, almost to herself.

"Those were my memories, of almost twenty years ago. There is a lot of history between and amongst the wizards with whom you interact, Cecilia. You are aware, are you not, that Sirius was blamed for Harry's parents' murder, and spent almost fourteen years of his life there? It was information..._mis_information from Severus that led to his arrest." Cecilia nodded, then spoke.

"But...Severus...he looked so...?" Cecilia still couldn't believe it – how could this young man, admittedly a bit geekish-looking and probably quiet and not so outgoing become the cold, forbidding, distant Severus Snape of today?

"Carefree? Young? Yes," nodded Minerva. "That's just how he was. Admittedly his less than ideal associations with some in Slytherin house influenced him to a degree, but until that day, until Sirius Black accused him of foul play, I am convinced that's what he would have stayed." Cecilia nodded.

"Severus was never the charismatic young man like Sirius, but he was always, always kind and considerate to others; gave them second chances; treated them as equals; despite his personal feelings, favoured the underdog. In the same way he's treated you Cecilia, in an attempt to understand your science, for unselfish reasons.

"But even when his name was cleared, Sirius Black made sure everyone knew that he was about to propose to a muggle-born, more out of sport to see how Severus would react than concern over Henrietta Edwards. Up till then, he'd tolerated their taunts and tricks. But Sirius finally had him; he could not admit he had associations with a muggle-born wizard, denying it to the students in his house, of course, and that only led rumours to begin about other reasons he would be with Henrietta Edwards on the night her parents were murdered. And Sirius knew what he was doing of course. The blacker side of Sirius Black, which you've also seen first-hand, Cecilia. That's what caused Severus to change from the boy you saw then to the man you know today. However I do not believe the boy Severus has gone entirely, and that is some blessing."

"Are you trying to tell me that animosity between Severus and Sirius goes back a long way? I would have believed you, Minerva, without you having to show me."

"It's not just that," said Minerva carefully. "Think again...specifically Sirius's reaction when he knew Henrietta was missing, and Severus's reaction to her afterwards..."

Cecilia thought...back to the first scene, where he was telling Minerva that Snape had gone off with her. Sirius wasn't concerned about her even after he found out about her parents' death until he was sure she was with Severus. And between them, even when Sirius had not only humiliated Snape by getting him to admit to something so personal, he continued to pour salt on his wounds yet despite all of that, Severus's main concern was Henrietta's welfare, despite knowing she was something other than what he'd expected her to be.

And that was it, wasn't it? Sirius didn't actually want Henrietta for himself, but to antagonise Severus. For fun. He certainly didn't act like he cared about her wellbeing, and she probably fell for his looks and charm. Let's face it, what woman wouldn't? And Severus denied Henrietta, becoming bitter at Sirius's trick; being beguiled and tempted into the life of a Death Eater because he eventually came to believe what he was telling everyone else...

"The strangest thing," said Cecilia slowly, "is that it isn't strange at all. It all makes total sense." It fits in with everything I already know about wizards in general, and those in particular. Blood mattered. And so did power.

"So was Henrietta alright?" she added, changing the subject. "I recognised the Unforgivable spell. Her parents were victims of Voldermort, then?"

"Yes," agreed Minerva, "They were some of the first victims of the Death Eaters. The students you saw Sirius talking about became, in time, Death Eaters too."

"Now look again..."

...this time, bright green haze before her eyes...Cecilia could see in the silver pool...grass...trees tall and high...blue sky with the sun high...

...as before she leaned further in and felt air whooshing past her as she fell...before her the grass beheld people...as she fell closer, she could see...a park...ducks quacked on the pond adjacent...the sun warming Cecilia's back as it shone down...a happy day...

...she looked round as she swooped to a standing position for whom she would see this time...around her, people were sat in groups, threes or so, either in benches, with small dogs on leads walking past...children running and playing with toys...a lady in a fitted coat pushing a Silver Cross pram...who would she see this time? Sirius again? Severus? Perhaps Lily or Henrietta?...

...a young lady was walking over to one particular spot in the park, her full skirt blowing gently round her calves as she walked quickly, towards...a young man. Cecilia noticed that she wore a sleeveless top with a wide collar, and a wide belt too, in dark green to match her skirt and sandals. She was quite fetching, thought Cecilia, not entirely beautiful, but...striking...something about her. Both the young lady and young man were very pleased to see one another, but...there was an atmosphere of unease...

...Cecilia moved towards the pair, and as she drew closer, she noticed that the young lady was wearing a necklace, the pendant glinted in the sun...she'd seen it before...Minerva wore one just like it...

...the young couple were walking round the park now, Cecilia moving at a steady pace when they were in their sights, and she realised...this must be Minerva when she was young...the 1950s perhaps...when children played with spinning tops in the park and skipping ropes...

...the image faded, and Cecilia was sitting next to Minerva again. Time passed before Minerva spoke.

"Mickey was my first and last love," she said, a far away look in her eyes. "We had been courting for almost three years; I'd decided to give up wizardry, to live as a respectable muggle wife. Just after the second world war there was a shortage of teachers, so I intended to remain at home as a governess." She glanced at Cecilia. "It was the done thing at the time, a married woman stayed at home to look after her husband. That was what I was going to do." She stopped.

"Mickey," she continued after a few moments. "Michael Mullen. He worked repairing cars, and I met him during my work as an Auror. We fell in love, Cecilia. I was 29."

"You were going to give up your life as a wizard?" Cecilia nodded as she spoke. She knew the origin of that motivation. How her own mother had begged her not to marry Timothy Frobisher how, if she were marrying because she was pregnant, her father and she would raise the child for her.

How she'd pleaded with her not to give up on her dreams and hopes. How Cecilia had known that in spite of everything her mother said her words were in vain because of love...because that was how her life was meant to be. Cecilia looked at Minerva's face. There was grief in her eyes, though hidden well. Cecilia recognised it because it was the same grief that had overcome her, not so very long ago. She waited for her to continue in her own time.

"He understood about me being a witch, almost from the first day. There never seemed to be a problem, we just accepted it, it was part of us. But that day, in the park, he told me he would not be able to marry me, and he could not see me again." An age passed before the witch spoke again.

"Do not let any of this," she gestured to Cecilia's now tidy room, "trouble you. You are intelligent, so I feel it is in your best interests to know something more of the relationship between muggles and wizards, not least in helping you to understand your work. Muggles and wizards may indeed be so similar Cecilia, but equally we are so different".

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"Harry told me," said Sirius, sitting with his legs up over the arm of his father's wing backed chair. Remus Lupin was sitting in the chair next to him, but in a far more reserved position. He looked up at Sirius.

"Are you serious? Is she OK?"

"Who, Cecilia? Yes. Fine. Spoke to her just now, in fact. Looks like it was probably Malfoy that broke in. Been winding her up all week."

"Poor Cecilia," Remus unfolded his arms and walked over to the fireplace. And you got to speak to her. He sighed. "She's OK now?"

"Had a good chat with Hogwarts' finest," said Sirius, casually. "The McGonagall," he clarified when Remus frowned. "Malfoy's got hold of your book, by the way; probably on its way to Uncle Lucius as we speak."

"Well, I'm going to have to speak to her," said Remus, suddenly. "She is very protective over that book you know; even more so after Biblioinflamore." He mimicked flames coming from the books on the shelf nearby. "She'll be frantic."

"Relax, Moony," Sirius swung his legs from over the chair, and sat forward. "She didn't seem too worried when I spoke to her." And far too appropriately attired he'd noticed, to his disappointment. "Must be the McGonagall effect. Seemed quite cheerful, in fact."

To you, thought Remus, dully. Perhaps I should speak to her.

"Anyway, you know that little weasel of a cousin of mine will hand it over to Snivellus first before it gets anywhere near Daddy dearest. Ah yes, in the capable hands of Snivellus Snape," he looked distant for a while, grinning to himself, "who in turn will either burn it, hide it or give it back to her. Look," he added at Remus's worried expression. "She's got everything she needs from it, hasn't she? Even the story of the lunar men, which is, alas, no more."

"Actually, she did seem a little shocked to see me, come to think of it," said Sirius, glancing down at her letter in his pocket. "I wonder if it did shake her up more than she admitted."

"You wonder? Heavens, Padfoot, when did anyone ever talk to you about their insecurities? And that would be the first time she'd spoken to you since you...your error of judgement in August, would it? Besides, you know that's my job. The comforting arm, the "Oh I wish I could speak to Sirius the way I can to you, Remus" line, before they went back and did exactly the same next week." Sirius chuckled.

"Yes, I don't seem to be able to do the big brother act in quite the same way as you, Moony."

"...and Prongs for the scintillating intellect..." said Remus thoughtfully, as he paced across the once-expensive, now moth-eaten carpet in Sirius's father's study.

"..not that it lasted long for Prongs anyway, once Lily caught his eye..."

"...all the more ladies for you, eh?" Remus winked, to show it was a joke. He had long since passed the stage of feeling insecure and in the shadow of his friend. Nevertheless, he hoped Sirius didn't detect the note of defensiveness that he himself could in his last comment.

"Anyway, you'll soon be able to talk to her when you and Tonks go home with her for her work. I don't know, wanting to protect my little cousin, eh?" Sirius winked at Remus, who said nothing.

"If the book hasn't turned up then, at least Mrs Frobisher can grovel to you in person about her careless loss."

"Is that what she said?"

"More or less. She thinks it's her fault. Anyway, she seemed to have had a nice birthday..." Sirius's voice trailed off as he stood up and walked over to the wall, ringing the bellpull that was hanging nearby from the ceiling.

"Where is that wretched Kreacher with the tea? Oh I suppose I'll have to magick some myself." He crossed back to the table, tutting a little.

"It's never the same as elf-made tea," he added, pointing his wand towards the table. "Milk, Moony? Or wrong time of the month?"

"Milk," confirmed Remus, sitting back down on the chair near the table. "You were saying, Cecilia's birthday?"

"Tonks had to cancel, so she stayed down in the Three Broomsticks for a while, before heading back to the castle. Quite a little adventure for her, so it seems. Coping with work and everything too." Sirius picked up a teacup and saucer, oo-ing quietly at the refreshment.

"So you approve of her now? Of the research too? You realise what we were all trying to say to you?" Remus looked over the rim of his cup, waiting for Sirius to reply before he took a sip.

"Its like you said Moony, we all have to make some sacrifices. Now I know they're not playing around with blood, and that Harry's safe then, why not? She actually seems OK for a muggle. No really my type though." He winked. Remus rolled his eyes, recalling a time when women like Cecilia _were_ Sirius's type.

"See," said Remus. "What did I tell you? Anyway, where'd you get to last Sunday? I thought Mr. Snuffles was going to keep me company?"

"Sidetracked," said Sirius. "Death Eaters. Didn't I tell you? Ended up in our tunnel by the Jolly Friar."

"Well," said Remus, conjuring a plate of biscuits. "I really wish you hadn't; the wolfsbane was a bit weak; old batch, I think. I could really have done with the company." Sirius shrugged an apology, smiling weakly at his friend as much as to say, "couldn't be helped"

"Shame we couldn't have caught up with Cecilia in the Three Broomsticks as she was there," thought Remus, aloud. "Shame she had to spend the evening alone."

"So, are you going to let Cecilia know you and Tonks are her protectors, then?" said Sirius, changing the subject.

"I think I'll let Tonks do it; she's good at these things. Give Cecilia some breathing space. She's probably had the fill of wizards for one week."

Sirius shifted to a more comfortable spot in his chair. Indeed...

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Cecilia's mind was racing as it usually did once she'd finished one of her research sessions with Snape. They'd progressed a lot further on than she'd hoped that day, and despite still feeling the lethargy from the butterbeer had got worse, she'd managed to get a lot done.

Energy was the subject of her investigation now. Question after question had arisen in her mind as they reasoned the DNA riddle. If wizard cells replicated, which they had to do, they needed energy. So did a wizard's energy come directly from their food in the same way as muggle energy? Did the spells need activation energy? How was it manifest? How was it used?

Question after question settled in her mind as she walked, and as she made her way to the library, the method by which they were going to solve it began to form.

Just as she turned the corner to the corridor where the library lay, she bumped quite heaily into Hermione, almost knocking the little witch over. She helped Hermione pick up her books, then realised that she was crying.

"Hermione?" she said, as Hermione stood hunched over the books Cecilia had handed back to her. "What's the matter?"

"N...n.." she began, wiping at her face frantically. Cecilia patted her on her shoulders. "Oh Mrs Frobisher," she began again, before breaking down into sobs.

"There there," said Cecilia, taking her books from her. "Would you like to talk to me about it?" Hermione said nothing, but nodded, looking up at Cecilia with swollen eyes.

"Yes?" said Cecilia, "all right, come on then. I think a nice pot of tea would do us the world of good."

She led Hermione back towards the staff quarters and into the staffroom, which was deserted that Saturday evening. The room itself was large and oak panelled, not dissimilar to Dumbledore's study in appearance. She set Hermione's books down on the table there, and gestured towards a seat nearby.

Cecilia waited for Hermione's sobs to become quieter as she busied making some tea; there was an old copper kettle on one of the shelves and she filled it with water from the old cast iron tap located in the corridor. Attempting to balance the kettle of water over the fire, she noticed that Hermione had stopped crying and was now smiling as she attempted to get the kettle to stay put.

"I'll get us some," said Hermione, giggling slightly as Cecilia put down the kettle on the hearth. "I don't think that would have worked anyway, Mrs Frobisher," she added, as Cecilia sat back down next to her.

"Oh, and why's that?" Cecilia enquired, pouring tea from the pot Hermione had produced into two cups and handing one to the young witch.

"Because that kettle is actually the Ravenclaw House prize. I'm not sure whether Professor Flitwick would have been very happy with you." She smiled again, then glanced down slightly, sipping her tea.

"You look a bit happier now, Hermione. Would you like to talk about what's been upsetting you?" She smiled kindly at Hermione. Whatever it was, she had never seen her so distressed; nor many students, even muggle children.

"It, er...it seems a bit silly now, Mrs Frobisher," she faltered, looking up earnestly at Cecilia. "I was, well you see...do you remember when I spoke to you before, about not coming here? When mum was going to send the letter back to Dumbledore to say no?"

"But you ran up the road to stop her before she posted it," continued Cecilia, nodding. "Yes, I remember you telling me, Hermione." Hermione sighed.

"Well, it was just that, well...doing this muggle studies assignment made me think: perhaps, even after all this, if I don't want to be a witch any more, if I want to go home and be a normal person again, I wouldn't be able to. Sometimes I just wish I'd stayed at home. I hate that I made my choice five years ago without really thinking through the options." She lowered her head, and began to sniff again.

"And" sniff "And if I want to go and live in the muggle world I" sniff "wouldn't know how to!" With the last sentence, Hermione broke out into floods of tears again. Cecilia waited for her to let it all out.

"But why would you want to, Hermione?" said Cecilia, when Hermione had composed herself. "being a witch is who you are! And besides, even if you did want to do that, there's nothing to stop you. You went to junior school, so you know quite a lot of things from our- from muggles' point of view."

"I sometimes just don't want to stay here," Hermione went on, seemingly to ignore Cecilia's advice. "And when I try to talk to my friends about it, Harry well, I can't talk to Harry because of everything he has on, and with Ron, he doesn't understand what I'm talking about."

She got to her feet, and Cecilia watched as Hermione paced round the empty staffroom. "We had a row," she said, simply. Cecilia said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"And if I can't talk to Ron about how I'm feeling, I can't talk to him about, about anything!" Hermione threw her arms down by her sides as she spoke, and looked at Cecilia. Then it dawned on Cecilia, who nodded slowly.

"You like Ron, don't you?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be. Hermione nodded.

"Not just like," the girl continued, sitting back next to Cecilia. "I really like him, like that," she said, tilting her head to one side. "But I just can't get him to notice me. He just sees me as Hermione; his and Harry's friend. How am I ever going to get him to notice me if I can't talk to him properly?"

Cecilia didn't say anything. This was Hermione's rite of passage from girl to woman. Even if she, Cecilia, had the right answer, it wasn't her place to tell her. Part of growing up as a girl was finding out the answer. Or not. Or realising it's actually the question that's wrong.

"I'm sure he does notice you," said Cecilia, steadily. "Boys are different creatures to us, Hermione, they don't think like we do. I don't know about all this difference people keep banging on about between muggles, squibs and wizards, it's the differences between men and women that are more unfathomable, I think." She smiled, as did Hermione.

"Come with me, for a second, I want to show you something." Cecilia opened the door for the staffroom and made towards her room. Intrigued, Hermione followed her. She beckoned Hermione inside as she made her way inside, pulling open a couple of drawers of her desk, now beautifully mended by Professor McGonagall.

Cecilia pulled out a picture of herself, aged fourteen. It looked nothing like her now; she was dressed in black though, her favourite colour at the time. At the time her friends were into bright colours, spots and stripes, Cecilia had stuck to black. Everything black; jeans, shoes, jacket. All black, except for her hair, which shone out like a sodium street light.

"Are you aware of what batteries are, Hermione?" she asked, as Hermione surveyed the picture and glanced intermittently at Cecilia.

"You put them into things and make them work with electricity," she said. "Why?"

"I was your age there, no, perhaps just a bit younger. Mum despaired about my clothes; even my best friend's nickname for me was Duracell." She waited for the penny to drop. Hermione smiled, and looked up, mischievously.

"Now, here I was when I married Tim. Seven years later." She handed Hermione another picture.

"Tim was a bit older than me, but he said he remembered me from when I was fourteen," she said, holding up the first picture. "I remember laughing with my friend Libby when we were at school, saying who we would marry from our friends' brothers. Mine was always Tim. Libby's incidentally was Roger Gordon, but he turned out to be- well, not boyfriend material. Timothy Charles Frobisher." She sighed, and collected the pictures back off Hermione.

"But when I was fourteen I never ever thought he knew who I was, let alone would have any interest in me. He remembered my smile, he said, and my hair. About the best bits of me really..." Cecilia replaced the pictures back in her drawer.

"So you think there might...still be hope?" Hermione began to walk nervously around Cecilia's room, glancing in her direction. "I mean, I really do like him..." She picked up Cecilia's hairbrush and began to play with it idly.

"Hermione, it's not my place to say what will happen in the future. Heavens above, sometimes none of us can say what's going to happen in the next five minutes. But if he's going to notice you, and chances are he probably already has."

"Really?" said Hermione, her face brightening. "Are you sure?"

"If he's noticed you, Hermione, and the chances are he probably has," she repeated, "then he's missing out on something really special." She folded her arms. And that was all the counselling I'm going to do tonight, she thought. Hermione smiled.

"Thanks, Mrs Frobisher, for listening. Sorry I was such a silly fool."

"Not at all, Hermione. We wouldn't be female if we didn't cry our eyes out over boys at least once in our lives. Now, do you feel any better?" Hermione nodded, then glanced round Cecilia's room.

"And you Mrs Frobisher?"

Ah yes, thought Cecilia. The last time Hermione saw me, Professor McGonagall was trying to calm me down after the break-in.

"Much. I can definitely see the plus side of magic," she said, smiling back at Hermione. "Thank you for getting Professor McGonagall for me, Hermione."

"It was nothing, Mrs Frobisher. If there are any spells required towards the pursuit of your book - for the sake of your research, of course, then I'd be most happy to oblige. I think I can still remember the one Professor Moody used when he turned Malfoy into a ferret..." she grinned, as if sharing a joke with her teacher.

"Did he?" said Cecilia, who chuckled at the thought as Hermione nodded.

"Not at present, but you will be the first to know," continued Cecilia, then a thought struck her. "How do you know Draco Malfoy has my book, Hermione?"

"I heard him bragging this afternoon, in the library, with Crabbe, and Goyle, just before I had the argument with Ron" she replied earnestly, as if recalling a distant memory.

"It was odd because he rarely comes into the library, but I think he was telling some third year Slytherins about it." She continued to look at Cecilia. "They also talked about breaking in again tonight, looking for...some samples I think he said, but then said it didn't matter if they weren't to be found because it was just the book his father wanted tonight, and that his father would be proud of him at last for doing something right. Anyway, that's what I heard," she finished lamely. "I was going to let Professor McGonagall know, but now you do, so that's OK."

"Thank you, Hermione," said Cecilia. "You've been most helpful. And now, if you're feeling better," she waited as Hermione nodded in confirmation, "there are things I must be getting on with. Have a nice evening."

"You too, Mrs Frobisher," said Hermione, on her way out.

88888888

"Course we will, won't we Fred?" said George, grinning at his brother. "At eight o'clock you say? It'd be an honour, Mrs Frobisher, on the lives of "MWPP", the founders of mischief and mayhem at this very school."

"And this," said Fred, handing to her what looked like a tie-dyed velvet curtain, "you just throw on, then – valour...valois...voila...

"But are you sure you don't just want us to go and get it for you? It wouldn't take half a mo-" George was ready to take the mysterious cloak back off Cecilia.

"Thanks guys," said Cecilia, nodding slightly in appreciation of the Weasley twins' invaluable help, "but I'm sure you understand, this is one score I need to settle on my own. I have your word that none of this will go any further?"

She had bumped into the twins quite accidentally on her way towards Slytherin House. Cecilia hadn't actually given it a lot of thought about the fact that she was just going to march in there and take "Mysterious Mythology" back from Draco Malfoy, but fortunately for her the twins stopped her, and she told them what her intentions were.

From there it had been simple. Masters of trick and deception, Fred and George Weasley had outshone their reputations, giving Cecilia everything she needed to undertake a successful recovery operation. She would definitely consider them in the future for any other "off the record" jobs.

"Do you think we'd go round broadcasting the fact that we deliberately got ourselves into a weeks' worth of detention?" said Fred, indignantly.

"No, Mrs Frobisher, we solemnly swear we're up to no good, for the sake of Great Britain and all who sail in her," said George, hand across his chest. Fred saluted. Cecilia stifled a giggle, and swallowed, resuming her adult demeanour.

"A months' worth of detention would be worth it just to see the look on Malfoy's face when he knows the book's not there," said Fred, looking at George, who nodded in agreement before they both looked at Cecilia.

"So, at eight o'clock, we'll get into a fight with Malfoy and his cronies. You can then put this on and go down to the Slytherin house dorms to get your book back..."

"...then the McGonagall can find us and give us all detention for fighting, he'll look an idiot in front of his dad..."

"And we'll have more than repaid you for the Veritaserum," finished Fred, grabbing hold of the bottom of the cloak, and helped her put it on.

For the fact that it looked like a curtain, it felt lightweight, almost feather-light on her shoulders. She looked down. Her body had gone.

"Gosh," she gasped. "This is fabulous," and looked up at the twins. "Whose did you say this was?" Fred tapped the side of his nose.

"Those that ask no questions, Mrs Frobisher..."

"...good MWPP'ers never reveal their sources.." added George.

"If you're going to do it, Mrs Frobisher, you need to take the second passage off the main corridor, not the first. That was nearly our first mistake when we were last down there."

"And," added Fred, "make sure the cloak is done up tightly over you," he said, fastening all the buttons around her. "Otherwise bits of you will show, and it'll be a dead giveaway. Oh, and just because you'll be invisible, doesn't mean you're soundproof!" The twins chuckled.

"Fantastic, lads," said Cecilia, "I don't know how ever I would have come up with that if it hadn't been for you." As she spoke, the school clock sonorated eight chimes. Cecilia looked up.

"Queen and Country," she said, doing up the last button of the invisibility cloak. The twins smirked, and saluted again. Slowly, she made her way down the hall from the Fat Lady, and up towards the Great Hall, the twins following at a distance.

After about a hundred yards, Cecilia glanced over her shoulder to see the twins veer off in the direction of the Grand Staircase, and waited. Before long, she could hear a commotion, far off, and she knew the twins were putting their side of the plan into action.

With any luck that would not only stop Malfoy and co. from returning to their dormitory, but also a good few Slytherin; eager to tell and Professor who would listen an exaggerated version of how the Weasley twins attacked Draco with "no provocation at all". For once they'd be right, and she wasn't sure how many teachers would believe them.

Turning left and right, Cecilia wove her way through the maze of corridors that led between the Great Hall and the Slytherin dormitory. The twins had explained that the dormitories were laid out in the same way as in Gryffindor, with the boys and girls separate, to either side, above the common room, but that Draco had a separate room, off the main dormitory, of his own. Cecilia had resisted the urge to ask them how they knew.

In addition, where the password-protected portrait of the Fat Lady was the security for Gryffindor House, Slytherin House relied on a complex network of corridors and stairs, neatly interlinked, with one, and only one route in and out. Any mistake would be terminal, they'd explained. It would be the only mistake she would make, although they didn't elaborate on the type of sticky end she would encounter.

After about an hour of map-reading, checking the landmarks that the twins had carefully enchanted onto the parchment and dodging out of the way of passing students, Cecilia reached the common room.

Trying not to look too hard at the decorations and gruesome symbols decorating the walls (was that really the head of the troll, she wondered in disgust), she made her way up a set of stone stairs towards the boys' dormitory, remembering in time to only tread on every other one, and entering, hoping against hope that no Slytherin boys had chosen this moment to get changed.

As dark as the common room had been below, the dormitory was darker, illuminated sporadically with flaming torches. Cecilia waited for her eyes to get used to the light, and idly glanced at the pictures on the wall near the communal cloak pegs.

"1985...1984...1983...1982..." Cecilia scanned what looked like final year house pictures, with wizards from the NEWT year, all staring out of the iconographs. How odd, she thought, when every other wizard picture was animated, the students in these were fixed...

"1981...1980...1979...1978...1977...1976..." Cecilia carried on scanning the faces, but then stopped, and looked back. "...1977..." Severus Snape stared back at her.

Through the invisibility cloak, she looked at his features. They were soft and youthful, like the boy she had seen in Minerva's memory. He was standing next to other students whose expressions were also sombre, not a smile amongst them. But the pictures were animated though: Cecilia could see the trees wave slightly in the background, and the clouds moved across the monochrome sky.

She looked back at Severus – it wasn't just a lack of expression on his face though...it looked like...he was staring right back at her..._as if _he was staring right back at her, she corrected herself quickly, right through the cloak and through twenty-odd years of time.

...suddenly, she heard a noise, a slight metallic tap-tap. She looked round the dormitory quickly, but could see no-one. Carefully she headed towards the door opposite now; this had to be where Draco's room was, for there was no other door, and no other before she'd entered.

As she made her way across quickly, she nearly jumped out of the invisibility cloak...tap-tap...tap-tap...she looked round...and a bat, upside down in a cage on the opposite room dropped monkey-nut kernels against the bars as it ate.

Stupid you, Cecilia Jane, she scolded herself as she reached the door. Not like you to get spooked by pets. Carefully, she opened the door into...

...a slightly brighter-lit corridor. Glancing round again, she noticed another door with a plaque attached to it..."Head Boy".

Well, that can't be Draco's room, thought Cecilia, frowning. He's not head boy of Slytherin. But, there were no other doors in sight, and other than start going through the belongings of every boy in the house next door, she must put her trust in the twins. They hadn't let her down so far...

...the room as almost pitch black, save for sconces fixed to the wall in the shape of skulls; those were the first thing Cecilia noticed about the room. The second was the huge mirror behind the door and over a huge dressing table that illuminated the weak light eerily from the skulls, making the room seem much larger.

Once she had got over these features, the rest of the room seemed well, not too bad. Like a typical boy's room, she thought; a typical teenager. Books lay scattered around the floor with clothing and other belongings. A magazine about brooms and quidditch lay open on a chair beside his unmade bed. At the other side of the room there was a wash area; a sink (skull-shaped) with a pedestal was mounted to it, and beside was a door which was ajar, and seemed to lead to a small toilet.

It wasn't hard to see where he'd found the inspiration for the total mess she had found yesterday. Cecilia continued to look round, though she didn't want to look too hard. Draco Malfoy may be a little rat, but there were some things she didn't want to know about, thank you very much!

Where to start, she wondered, looking at the melee. Randomly she turned over books in case they were "MM", taking care to replace them where she found them. I could really have done with Hermione, actually, thought Cecilia, as she looked again...

...half an hour later, having carefully looked through everything she'd dared (and jumped at every sound she'd unintentionally made), she felt she was near to conceding defeat.

She had, however, found a gold bangle of hers she thought she'd lost at the start of term, her first Christmas present off Tim, where he'd gone out and had her date of birth engraved on, wrongly, but no book. Sighing, Cecilia turned to go. She really had thought she'd be able to get it back.

As she was about to walk back through the door, she paused, looking across at the hundreds of items: combs, watches, a signet ring...all swathing the table. But what had caused her to stop was a picture. More precisely, what the picture was standing on.

Maybe it had been the light, thought Cecilia, as she pulled off the silk cloth that covered "Mysterious Mythology", or that it had been hidden in plain sight for a reason. Whatever, it didn't matter; she'd got Remus's book back!

Cecilia stowed it away inside the invisibility cloak. The twins had shown her that the pockets were endless; they could hold anything and everything which had meant, they'd added, that it could hold Honeydukes' finest.

Looking for a book of a similar size to "MM", she picked up a copy of "Hogwarts – A History", which she'd inadvertently kicked across the floor earlier, and replaced the picture, turning to go for a second time; across the Slytherin boys' dorm; down into the common room, through the maze of corridors and freedom...

...but it wasn't to be quite yet; Cecilia had noticed the woman in the picture. She was thin and sculpted, not unlike the pictures she had seen at Grimmauld Place. She too, was almost immobile against the faintly flapping background against which the iconograph had been taken.

The look on her face had made her not unattractive features ugly. It was if she were a bird of prey, scanning a cornfield looking for a mouse. A look would have turned milk sour, thought Cecilia, grimly. The woman, she noticed, was glancing down at her hand holding the frame, so she moved it, and held it at the top. But the woman was still looking down.

Underneath a pot of Brylcreem and a flannel (black with skulls) was an open book. Was this what the woman was looking at? Carefully, she scanned the page. The date, "October 12th" was visible at the top, and beneath, in Draco's neat, copperplate writing, read...

...if this doesn't make Father proud of me, and in turn, the Dark Lord of him, then nothing will!!! Crabbe, the idiot of the House actually used his tiny mind for once and came up with a charm to break into the squib's room. It might have been quicker however, to have found our wretched ex-house elf, however, we managed it. And how much fun did we have! She does have some peculiar stuff, including some brightly coloured camisoles (they went through my underwear, thought Cecilia in disgust, ew!). But best of all was the destruction of all things muggle; Hades knows where the foul thing gets it all from, there's no power in muggles, that's for sure. Father said she can't have been a squib from the wizard community like Professor Snape said to us if she has all this stuff, so when I get her again, I'll make her tell me...

At this point the writing stopped. Cecilia looked over the page for more, but Draco had clearly not filled in anything for today. So, thought Cecilia. Severus told them she was a squib. That certainly explained a few things. But why?

Quickly, she looked through the book, which was clearly a diary. At the front, the year started with January 1st, but not many pages had been filled in and it appeared to Cecilia he only recorded events that he found important. She turned to the front cover.

"The Diary of Malfoy" [she read, "Volume 137: D. Malfoy. 1996"

How tacky, thought Cecilia, as she looked at the frontispiece. How ghastly to have your own diary as part of a family tome. Family must be really important to him then if he's willing to share his private thoughts with the rest of them.

The title page was most impressive – the Malfoy coat of arms at the centre; a huge beast adorned with gold and silver, skulls adorning the beast as it stood proudly from the sable background and below it, in Latin, a motto: "Cruor in Potentia".

"Blood and Power"? thought Cecilia, turning over the page "Power of the Blood"? What sort of family motto was that? Not one that could be explained by the information overleaf however the creator of the motto, and author of the family tree, a one Joseph Black (1728-1799) had been "honourable and faithful to the pure blood of wizards, henceforth setting down a true and accurate account of the family history beginning this year 1801 [Cecilia looked a couple of pages on at the tiny, seemingly endless script so as to raise the power and might of the family, proud and noble, unsullied, forever!"

Not thinking now, Cecilia looked across at the Malfoy (or indeed Black) family tree. Each family member sat close to one another, a picture of each above their names and respective birth and death dates. The pictures from earlier appeared to be hand coloured line drawings, with iconographs replacing them around the middle of the 1800s. The names too, began to develop, becoming more flamboyant and exotic as the generations passed. Right at the top was Joseph Black, who looked beadily at her from his miniature as she traced her finger over the page, following the lines wizards that made up Draco's family.

Every so often she would come across a dead end, presumably where a witch or wizard had expired or fallen out of favour with the patriarch; later still, names had not been eliminated, merely crossed through in red, occasionally with a word or two of explanation. One set of twins, for example, had the word "squib" written above; shame indeed in this family, thought Cecilia grimly.

As she reached the bottom, coming now towards the middle of the twentieth century, Cecilia was amazed to find the lines joining back with each other, as if fewer and fewer pure blood wizards could be found, and intermarriage had to suffice. Looking around Draco's name, she noticed another name she recognised, that of a "Nymphadora", though her surname was not recorded, and that of her mother Andromeda, connected to that of Draco's mother Narcissa and another name, Bellatrix. Above Andromeda's name, in red, were the words: "married – T Tonks: misborn".

What on earth does that mean, thought Cecilia, puzzled not for the first time that evening. As scanned the vicinity again she saw another name in tiny script, almost hidden in the corner: Sirius Black.

Cecilia looked again. Yes, indeed, the name Sirius Black, she read, the name had been crossed through in red. But this couldn't be the Sirius Black she knew: _this_ Sirius Black had died, according to the legend, in 1972, aged thirteen. She looked at the picture. No it was him; the same hair, the same twinkle in his eyes. So what was his year of death recorded for then, when he was very much alive? Adjacent to Sirius's entry was that of a Regulus Black. He was very much a part of the family, though; no red line for him.

Just as Cecilia was about to turn the page, she stopped. The diary of Draco Malfoy was fascinating, she thought, but she still needed to get out of here. Placing the book down on the desk, she opened the diary back to "12th October". Something fluttered from between one of the pages. She read the entry through again.

So, thought Cecilia, a proud and noble pure blood, are we, she thought, looking down at the diary page. A little sneak and thug is what you really are, she thought, picking up Draco's monogrammed hairbrush from the dressing table.

You really think a lot of yourselves, don't you, thought Cecilia, as she teased a blonde strand of hair out of the bristles. There, thought Cecilia happily as the balance of power shifted back towards her. Let's see what I can do with this, with my lack of power.

Pleased at the revenge she would be able to enact, as well as at the retrieval of Remus's book, Cecilia made to go. Hand on the knob, she was just about to turn it when she noticed the picture which had fallen out of Draco's diary.

As she picked it up to slot it back in, her stomach lurched and Cecilia recalled the day she sat in Gringotts, nervously waiting for the decision about her legitimacy in the wizarding world: those pale, cold eyes and white-blonde hair. The man who had asked her what she was doing at Hogwarts…_where his son went_…the man...that man who gave her the Slytherin book...a Death Eater, loyal to Voldermort...Draco Malfoy's father!

Cecilia was about to turn to the diary again to investigate this shocking discovery when she registered footsteps and voices growing louder in her consciousness. Frozen to the spot, Cecilia waited for the inevitable arrival of Malfoy and company.

The door opened, and she heard voices...she closed her eyes...the door closed as she heard Malfoy say, "...in fact, no. I think we should go and have supper first; those wretched weasely Weasleys have just about ruined the evening...detention for a week...I'm going to get them, Goyle, if it's the last thing I do..."

She did not know how long she stood there after the voices and footsteps died away, but Cecilia didn't have the courage to move until her heartbeat had slowed so it didn't sound as if it was coming out through her ears. Pulse still racing, and "Mysterious Mythology" gripped tightly in her hand Cecilia finally turned the handle and slipped out...

88888888

Cecilia did not awake on Sunday until half past three in the afternoon. Whether it was through exhaustion from the butterbeer yeast; mental exhaustion or the mere volume of information her mind had been bombarded with over the last two days.

Whatever the cause, she deserved the rest, and lay in bed until four thirty, considering everything that she had experienced: Draco's close family; the long standing feud between Severus and Sirius; Hermione's love life; Minerva's love life; her status as a squib; Severus's status (and potential reason for becoming) a Death Eater; that he'd been the one to tell the Slytherin's she was a squib; the identity of Lucius Malfoy; the Weasley twins' near-gifted ability for mischief and their easy-going, down-to-earth characters...

...and after all of that, she still didn't think it changed that much. She still needed to work closely with Severus to come up with a potion for Harry; she was still going to be going home in a fortnight's time with a member of the Order to analyse wizard DNA samples (including Draco Malfoy's she added, with a grin).

But what it had done was leave her clearer about the people around her. Whether they liked it or not, Cecilia Knew Things; things she wouldn't have been able to find out about conventionally, and things which explained a lot of other things. Oh and she must remember to discard the Slytherin notebook sometime, she thought wryly.

At six thirty, Cecilia was sitting in the potions classroom, refreshed and ready to run the preliminary tests on the hair samples she and Severus had agreed to the previous day. She'd not forgotten to bring Harry's sample with her, which she'd carefully hidden the previous day, and felt strangely calm, in spite of everything.

As she waited, she remembered she hadn't gone back to the library to investigate the questions they had about energy transformations in wizards, and she made a mental note for that to be her first job when she next had some free time.

By seven thirty, Severus had finally arrived, dishevelled but seemingly eager to start work. He had obtained nearly all of the hair samples, with the exception of two; a pure blood and Petunia Dursley's the latter, he explained, would be collected by the Order member who'd be accompanying her home, however they both agreed that, as a muggle, her sample should

respond in the same was as Cecilia's, so it wasn't wholly necessary.

They made good progress, all in all; most of the samples behaved similarly to the spells Snape used on them, and Cecilia detailed them in their notebooks systematically as he asked her questions every so often about magic. Cecilia could certainly see the young man Minerva had described to her in Snape, even if it was only for a few seconds.

Eventually, they had exhausted every test; Snape had used the spells she had catalogued he had used before, and she recorded the response to the samples. They had worked well, she concluded.

"Not so well," said Snape, as she vocalised congratulations for them both. "We haven't got a pure blood sample yet."

"Nor Petunia Dursley's," said Cecilia, and had half a mind to return to her room to collect Sirius's hair. But she needn't even do that, she thought, glancing at Snape.

"But there's a clear difference," continued Snape, as he flicked through her notebook. "A clear difference between muggle and wizard samples."

"I haven't had the opportunity yet to investigate the energy question yet," she admitted. "I seem to have run out of energy myself," she added, smiling to indicate the pun.

"Indeed," said Snape, a little colder than she'd expected, and Cecilia wondered whether he was about to mention "Mysterious Mythology" and the means by which she'd recovered it.

"However I expect it will be high on you list of priorities?"

"Certainly," said Cecilia, nodding slightly, "I've got two weeks until we can analyse the hair for DNA, so I'm sure to have come up with something by then, however I have been thinking about the differences in wizards and muggles, in a non-scientific context. It was "Magic and Muggles" that gave me the idea to consider evolution. Are you familiar with the idea, Severus?"

"Indeed," intoned Snape again. "The means by which...Darwin was it?...believed living things altered over time with respect to their environment?"

"Precisely," nodded Cecilia. "But what I thought was, I wonder whether it was to do with some sort of social evolution." Sitting back on one of the benches in the classroom, Cecilia got into her stride.

"Say, for example, back at the time when muggles and wizards separated, and started to live separate lives, and because of a type of energetic advantage in your cells, wizards were able to live separate from muggles. Where we relied on energy from and food, prayed to Pagan gods, and then a Christian God for the sun to shine so our crops would grow, for food, wizards did not need to, because wizards..." Cecilia paused to grab her notebook to write down what she was saying, "wizards did not need to..." Cecilia looked up at Snape, who was staring at her.

"What do you think?" she said, slightly uncertainly when he said nothing. "Severus?"

"I think you have the basis of the energy research," he said eventually.

"So you think this might be valid?" Cecilia pushed, willing for the most logical thing she had thought that weekend to be plausible. It would explain a lot of things if it were.

"It's one possibility," said Snape, slowly. "Certainly no-one I know has proposed such an idea before...yes, I believe so, Cecilia. It could explain a great deal of things. I for one have never felt muggles to be interesting, but the more I learn, the more I can see how we affect one another, how our lives interconnect." He took a step nearer to Cecilia, looking down at what she had written, holding her hand out of the way of the previous page to read it.

"In that case, we could finish our DNA preliminary tests tonight and work on that," said Cecilia, quietly. "All we need is a sample of hair from a pure blood wizard...Severus...what about yours..?" She stopped, realising what she was asking. And remembering his response the last time...

...bracing herself for a scene, Cecilia unfolded her leg from underneath her. She expected him to storm out; throw something; shout; anything except for what he did do. Sighing, he sat down next to her on the bench.

"Cecilia, I need to be honest with you. I am unsure where you obtained the notion that I am a pure blood wizard; it is indeed flattering though I am aware of the fact that you are still ignorant of the extent of the importance of such differences to us..."

What? Thought Cecilia, as the information filtered into her already befuddled mind. Not a pure blood wizard? And he's sitting here calmly telling me this?

"Severus," said Cecilia, shocked. "I apologise...I just assumed...as the head of house for Slytherin -" she stopped, as Snape dropped his head slightly, and Cecilia recalled Minerva's memory...that same expression...shame...

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," said Cecilia kindly, patting his hand. Snape looked up sharply, frowning slightly.

"It doesn't matter to me," she continued, as he stared at her. "We'll just get hold of some from another wizard; its only for the experiment – _our_ experiment," she reminded him. "Its such a shame you can't be there with me to see it being carried out, I'm sure you would have learned a lot from it..." her voice tailed off as Snape put a long, gnarled finger to her lips.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much, Cecilia?" he said, continuing to look at her. Before this evening, she would have taken such question, coming form Snape to be rhetorical, and an insult...but now...

"And sometimes, I do feel the need to redress the balance..."

...and the next hour she spent was sitting in the potions classroom, listening to Snape talk...talk about his childhood...family...Hogwarts... growing up...all under the sharp judicious sword of Not Being a Pure Blood.

One thing was for sure, though Cecilia, as she listened patiently, they were no longer just colleagues. That he had told her about his family and such a personal topic as this...they were officially Friends...

Eventually, he came to an end. Silence reigned in the potions classroom as Cecilia considered all she'd heard.

"Is there nothing you wish to say, Cecilia?" Snape asked, uncertainly. "I thought you may have some questions."

"And I thought I talked too much," she retorted, nudging him playfully and smiling to show it was a joke. "Seriously though, you needn't have done that; I didn't mean to-"

"I would not have shared this with you Cecilia if I hadn't thought that I could do it confidentially with someone I consider, in spite of everything, a friend. I know of no other word for it." Subconsciously, he rubbed at his left arm.

"Yes," said Cecilia. "I think we are." Should I risk it, she thought, telling him that I know about him being a Death Eater? I'll have to admit I followed him last Sunday.

Carefully, Cecilia placed her right hand on his sleeve, looking up at him shyly. Snape held her hand tightly until she let go, throwing her hand away, before giving her an icy glare and getting to his feet.

"I know, Severus," said Cecilia, to his retreating back. "And if we are indeed friends, I need to tell you _how_ I know. I realise why you were angry in the summer; I know what a Death Eater is and what they do...what they stand for..."

"Do you?" said Snape, coming back towards her. "Do you, Cecilia? Because I don't think you do, not really! Oh you've read your books, made your predictions..." He gave Cecilia a contemptuous look. "But deep down-"

"Yes!" interrupted Cecilia, approaching him close to. "I know, Severus because last Sunday, instead of returning to Hogwarts like I told you, I followed you." She ignored the fiery temper that was beginning to arise in his eyes.

"I was drunk on the butterbeer, for which I'm still suffering today," she added, and noticed a flash of satisfaction pass over his glowering face. "I saw with my own eyes that man, tortured by others...but not by you. I realised then you must be a double agent; you can't want to do that, not the you I know..."

Without saying anything, Snape grabbed Cecilia by the waist, pulling her forward. She yelped slightly in his tight grip as he reached round her and pulled up his sleeve, so her face was close by the ugly mark. Stretching from wrist to elbow, a skull and a snake; the mark so deeply cut Cecilia could see the edge of the new flesh unable to knit with it.

"There," he said. "is that what you wanted? I hope you're satisfied." He pulled her upright again. Cecilia stared into his eyes, considering what she knew of the wizard Severus Snape. She lowered her head.

"No," she said after a few moments. "I don't expect I will know what being a Death Eater means." Snape's arm had become looser round her waist, so she pulled away.

"I'll carry on with the work on energy as soon as I can. I have a meeting with Harry tomorrow, so it won't be then." Cecilia looked back up again.

"Whatever you think of me, Severus, I'll never forget your honesty tonight. I don't think I could be that brave..." her voice tailed off limply, and she grabbed her notebook, making her way towards the door.

Once outside, Cecilia closed the classroom door and hit herself on the head with the notebook.

Stupid, stupid woman, she said to herself. You bloody idiot, you never know when to stop, do you? She took a few steps towards the courtyard entrance, when Snape called her, she turned, and staggered as she did so, feeling lightheaded and sank to her knees.

"Cecilia," said Snape urgently. "What's wrong?" He supported her elbow and wrapped his arm round her waist, helping her to her feet.

"Sev'r's...can't...tired...overdoing...butterbeer...damn" said Cecilia, unable to speak properly. "I..."

"I think you have been overdoing it, yes," he said, a sarcastic note to his voice. He lifted the limp Cecilia into his arms. "A good night's rest, maybe?" He suggested. "I'll be sure to cancel your morning's lessons," he added, as he strode across the courtyard and into the hall.

"Right-oh..." said Cecilia again, and rested her head on his shoulder...

...and now Cecilia feels...humiliation. The field in which she is standing is black; the only sight to be seen is an eerie green glow before her eyes, hanging low in the sky...she turns and sees...a man, huge in stature...he is standing before her, and Cecilia realises that they are not alone...others too are around them...the tall man approaches Cecilia, holding out his arms, as if to strangle her...she tries to scream...she wants to run away...fear envelops her as he approaches, but she can do nothing except for stand there...she closes her eyes...

...her arm aches, a dull, intermittent ache...Cecilia looks down at her arm and her heart lurches violently as she realises...the Dark Mark...it's on her arm...she's one of them, a Death Eater...but how can she be when she's a muggle herself...someone speaks...My Lord, they say...for the initiation...she's heard that voice before, a woman...My Lord, she says again...Cecilia looks at the man and horror fills her...Voldermort...you can't get away, he says...only minutes ago did you pledge your allegiance...before her eyes, Cecilia sees...a young man...stripped to the waist..._stop_ shaking, says another voice; why does she recognise it...she holds out her wand...your first kill, congratulations...the boy's face, contorted in horror...the boy's face changed...its her...she's lying dead in front of the Death Eaters...the dream fades...

...and now she's with Tim, at home...she'd woken up in bed, and feels...sadness...now she's downstairs...Tim's sitting on the sofa, talking about...life, moving on...there's an argument, and tears...now she is coming Hogwarts...she's met Hagrid, and the first day she sends a letter by Owl...Severus and the research...when he attacks her...exhilaration at the shopping expedition with Tonks to Emaness's... Remus waiting for her as she comes out of her sleep, holding her hand...there she was, sitting in front of her fireplace after she had spoken to Remus...planning about going home...what would she say to Dumbledore...her room yesterday, all broken up...her elation when she found "Mysterious Mythology...Draco's diary...the family tree...Sirius...seeing the black dog in front of her...Sirius pulling her out of the way of the Death Eaters...sitting in the Shrieking Shack, looking for a way out...curled up in Sirius's coat, thinking about how much she hates him...

...now Cecilia's dream slowed, and she dreamed, as she had done every night since Monday...she remembered every inch of the moment, the sunlight, weak and new, shining straight into the passage underneath the castle...Sirius insulting her about her figure, and her retaliation...he takes her hand, looking up at her in a spine-melting, knee-bone disintegrating way...Sirius pulls her closer...she can feel the heat of his body against hers, hers responding to his heartbeat...his mouth is hot, bring her closer to him, leaving her...wanting more...

Snape lowered his wand, and the stream of silver light that had emerged from Cecilia's head and his own to form a silvery pool a few minutes before ebbed away, retreating to a spot just above her right ear and his left. Few words could describe accurately how Snape felt at that moment; betrayal was certainly one he recognised. And bitterness.

With one last look at Cecilia's sleeping form, he threw her a look of contempt and left her room without looking back.

88888888


	15. So Near and Yet So Far

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"Partly, Harry," said Cecilia patiently. "Consider what you know about the particle theory of matter. Do you remember what I said?" Harry was sitting, head bent over one of Cecilia's own text books, looking at the relationship between water and steam. Their session often spilled back over to the fundamentals of science, and as much as Cecilia enjoyed teaching it, she was aware that Harry was probably feigning interest to avoid difficult questions.

It wasn't as they all had got better things to do; it was Friday night after all, and Cecilia would have much preferred to be in her room, preparing for the visit to Nick. However the information was vital; if she didn't get it beforehand, it would probably be a waste of time.

And I'm sure Harry would much prefer to be doing something other than this; he certainly didn't look like he was enjoying it.

"Like when you're standing near your friends?"

"So..?"

"The particles move further apart, because they vibrate more, and have more energy. Like you and your friends would do on a hot summer's day."

"Yes, well remembered. And on a cold day, you'd want to stand near your friends to keep the warmth in." She turned over a page, and sketched a diagram. Harry smiled wanly and shuffled about on the bench.

"How does that relate to the spell then? Does the light have particles?" He looked up at her, curiously.

"I have to admit Harry, that is a very advanced question," Cecilia smiled, considering how her skill would hold up to describing quantum physics. No. Perhaps not. "Why do you think that?" she asked.

"Well, you said things are made of particles, and light is a thing, so it has to have particles," he began. "But it's not really a thing…" he stopped. "I'm just being stupid, aren't I?" Cecilia got to her feet. It had been a long day and it appeared that Harry was trying his best to avoid speaking to her about his family again.

"Not in the least, Harry. Teaching in muggle schools has until recently forgotten what scientists do, and what science is. Scientists make predictions and carry out tests to gather evidence in support of them, just like Professor Snape and I are doing. Have you heard of a scientist called Einstein?" Harry shook his head. Amazing, thought Cecilia. She walked to the bookshelf and removed another of her old school textbooks.

"He is one of the world's greatest scientists, and he asked that very question you just did, about light and particles." She opened the book to the page. Albert stared back at them.

"I'm sure if Ron'll lend you his scientists' encyclopaedia, you'll be able to look him up for yourself, but no Harry, you're not being stupid. Sometimes, light behaves in two completely different ways. It is a form of energy, but in the way that it interacts with matter, it does not seem to behave like energy. And now -" she said, putting down the textbook next to Harry and looking over the top of her spectacles, "I need you to carry on with the samples in front of you." He gave her a downcast look.

"There isn't really much more to do after this for tonight Harry," she said, showing him the samples that Snape had already irradiated with "riddikulus" as a control. "Just that, and if you wouldn't mind having a look at the section in the book about genetic inheritance, then we can discuss what you think."

Harry turned grudgingly to the dishes of gelatinous blood samples in front of him. Quite gory, he considered, despite the fact they were not inside anyone.

"What's going to happen to the samples, Mrs Frobisher? I mean, what happened to them before - oh" he noticed the dishes that sat adjacent to the ones Cecilia had directed him to aim for. "So you think there might be a difference, Mrs Frobisher? Go on, what's you prediction?"

"Hmm," said Cecilia, as she glanced over to Harry whilst considering them carefully. The samples in front of him, those tested by Snape had responded similarly as before: the muggle sample, her own, was completely destroyed; with the squib one, the cells deformed and absorbed the spell, the _energy,_ but did nothing. But the ones which had come from wizards had changed again, and reorganised, the cell organelles rearranging to become something else. Snape's own, Cecilia had noticed, though it had responded, it had not done so in the same way as the others. Harry bent closer to the blood samples and looked at them too.

It was good to see he was taking an interest. At least that was someone; since a fortnight ago, Snape had either been too busy teaching to be able to work with her or on a mission with the Order. She had been lucky to secure even half an hour for him to carry out even the work in front of them, and even then he appeared quite put out. Not only that, it was Friday evening, three days before she was supposed to leave with a member of the Order to go to see Nick with the hair samples.

In fact, it had been an almost imperceptibly quiet week that week; Tonks had Floo'd her but by the time she'd remembered to ask her whether she was the Order member, she had gone; there was little happening in the way of school activities; the students had been given far too much work, and she had observed long hours for many of them in the library. Professor Snobbits had told her he was working on an interpretation of the sigils and hieroglyphics in Pompops's notes which had made her feel happy; they were progressing.

Even the comments about her squibbishness had dropped to almost nothing, even from the Slytherins. And no-one, not even Dumbledore had challenged her over Mysterious Mythology.

"They will do as they did last time," said Cecilia, looking at Harry. "That is to say, the muggle one will be destroyed by your spell, the squib one will do nothing and the wizard ones will respond. And your sample, Harry, will not respond in the same way, however there will be some change in the shape."

"However," she added, as Harry raised his wand, "it may be that, because you are who you are Harry, the samples may respond differently to you compared to when Professor Snape did them. This is what I'm investigating with you." Harry looked across at Cecilia as she spoke, and for a moment she thought he was going to refuse.

However, he raised his wand further, declaring "Riddikulus!" as silver sparks shot out of the end of his wand at the first sample. "Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Riddikulus!" Each time, he aimed at a sample, with the same spell. He looked at Cecilia. She shook her head, and gestured towards the microscope. Harry looked at her.

"Me?" he said, a touch of edginess in his voice, "Really? Don't...don't you want to look at them first?" Cecilia shook her head.

"One of the first things to know about science Harry, is that finding out things first, before anyone else, and be the first person in the world to have done it…is good fun. Go ahead."

She didn't have to offer again; Harry immediately collected the microscope from the shelf near the parapet and focused it as she had shown him before.

"Good," she said, encouragingly. "Nice to see you remembered about the objective lens." She leaned forward from her perch on the bench next to Harry, watching the young boy look at the samples.

"Good, " she said again. "Now, I was wondering whether you would like to do something else for me, Harry." Harry looked at her quizzically.

"My notebook," she said, showing him the next blank page. "I need to make a copy of these in order to record what they looked like; I don't suppose you'd like to – "

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, excitedly. "I mean, yes please, Mrs Frobisher." He took the book from her hand. "What do you want me to do?" He placed the book flat down on the desk beside the samples.

"Where I drew the samples of the blood after Professor Snape used the same spell, they're here," she said, pointing towards the sketches. "If you could record please your name, the spell you used, and draw the samples please, in that column here…." Cecilia pointed downwards at the empty spaces, "…that would indeed help me out."

No sooner as she'd asked him he'd begun, but it didn't take long for him to do it; he enchanted Cecilia's pencil to do the work.

"Well done, " said Cecilia, smiling. "If only I'd thought of that!" Harry looked up and smiled too when he realised she was joking.

"Are you going to be doing this type of thing when you go home, to the laboratory? Are you looking for this kind of thing?" She smiled, and opened the science textbook again, flipping past Einstein to the "Inheritance and Selection" section.

"How much about genetics do you know, Harry?" It was one question she had avoided asking him until it was absolutely necessary, and even though she wasn't sure who would be going with her home form the Order, she needed to be totally prepared.

"Not much, a little?" Harry ventured, looking down slightly. Cecilia looked at him kindly.

"Harry, there's no need to feel embarrassed." she said as patiently as she could without sounding patronising. "You've been taught no science until this year, how are you possibly expected to know what it is? Even Professor Snape didn't know what it was until a few weeks ago," she added. That did the trick. Harry looked up, and whether it was the eagerness to learn something more or something more than Professor Snape, he asked Cecilia to explain.

So she started off with the story of cells, referring to Harry's drawings, and asking him to think about what happened to them when people grew. She then managed to link into it gametes, and then took him into the cell itself, describing the chromosomes and then the genes in the nucleus, about the proteins that were so small they couldn't be seen by a microscope.

"Then imagine, you've been given 4 different cards," she said, laying out four different coloured pieces of paper in front of her which she had found in the Muggle Studies classroom. "how many different ways could you arrange these in pairs?"

Within a couple of minutes Harry had determined there were six possibilities.

"So there are six. Now imagine there are thousands and thousands of possible permutations of six, all strung together in pairs. How many more chances are there of repeating a pattern? Don't forget these can line up anywhere?"

Harry picked up his wand and began to arrange the cards this time. After about five minutes or so of eager concentration, he began to look disconcerted.

"Um, well…" he began, looking between the cards and Cecilia. "You could have…thousands…couldn't you?" He grinned, realising what she'd done.

"Billions," said Cecilia, quietly. "Because here, " she gestured towards Harry's assembly of protein molecules, "is just one strand inside the chromosome, and here are thousands of strands."

"So they all could contain a thousand possibilities each," said Harry. "Wow," he added, looking back at the card. "It's amazing!"

"It is," said Cecilia, a little glowing coal of pride in her stomach. "Each cell in a person's body contains their unique permutation of DNA. Each hair cell has the same arrangement to another, as does a skin cell to another skin cell…all the same code. Nature is simply marvellous in its simplicity"

"Anyway, " she continued. "Harry, what do you think that means?" she continued, hoping he could move on his thinking. "If we have thousands of different possibilities and thousands of strands. If they all contain proteins and they all tell our cells what to do and what to be?"

"We're different?" said Harry, "We all look different?" She nodded. Perhaps she was getting a little too advanced now.

"The proteins that are in your cells, Harry, have come from your parents. Mine have come from my parents, " she gestured to a picture of King William IV, whose portrait inexplicably hung in the Muggle Studies classroom.

"And his, from his," she added. "Families are inter-related. There are certain places in the strands," she moved part of Harry's card model away from the rest, "that occurs in people who are related; brothers, uncles, sisters, cousins…aunts…" she paused, waiting for him to catch on.

"If you take away what is known, which the tests I am to get done allow, then you can see what is not known." He looked back at her blankly.

Cecilia sat on the bench next to the samples, feet on the back of one of the stools. Harry stared back, blankly.

"The more information I have about your family, from what you can tell me, and physically, the more of an understanding I can gain about you. From the information, we can then use it to make a spell or potion powerful enough to beat Voldermort or at least, rid him of the opportunity to harm anyone again."

"But she's horrible!" shouted back Harry to a slightly startled Cecilia. "She used to call me strange and weird to my face, even when I was very young; she hated me, hated the fact she had been left with me. Everyone knows that she hated Mum, and Dad, too."

"Why did they leave you with her?" Harry stared at her, eyes narrowing, as much as to say, you know perfectly well why. Cecilia looked back.

"Because she was mum's sister," Harry continued, when Cecilia had said nothing. "They didn't want to leave me with a wizard family." When she still didn't say anything, he continued, "With a muggle family, I'd be safer."

Moments passed. Cecilia looked at Harry, a young boy in front of her. Harry returned the look; an adult woman who didn't actually know the true meaning of what he was saying.

"She's supposed to be my family!" said Harry, eventually. "They all are! And for ten years of my life I was treated as if I had to earn the right to be there…" He turned from Cecilia, who remained where she was. A channel to let it all out, she thought. Let it out, Harry, she thought, as his shoulders moved with his sobs, I'm no-one of consequence. Eventually he turned back.

"Who is getting the sample?" he asked, wiping away the remains of once-hot tears.

"Whoever is leaving with me so we can get the tests done. A member of the Order, though I don't know who, yet." Harry sighed, and looked at Cecilia almost pleading that she would not continue to question him if he spoke.

"Dumbledore left me with her because she was mum's sister. There was something about her being mum's sister that's important. It would be good to know what it is. To know that it was worth it." Cecilia got to her feet.

"That you're here Harry, still alive, that's got to be worth it. If you take away the magic, you can see what's left, and to me that looks like an awful lot of love, caring and respect. Anyway," she said, picking up the books and crossing the floor to replace them as Harry stood there, still looking at his feet.

"You've managed to do a fantastic job with my notebook," she added. "When I'm at a particularly tricky part, at a quarter to three of a morning and I need a spare pair of hands, I know who to call for their artistic talents."

"Anything else, Mrs Frobisher?" asked Harry, looking up. "Only I said I'd help Ron practice Quidditch; he's determined to be on the team this year." Cecilia nodded as Harry turned to go.

"Perhaps you'll come and watch when we play again, Mrs. Frobisher? You came before, and sat with the McGon- Professor McGonagall. Next week we're playing Slytherin'".

"Perhaps," said Cecilia thoughtfully, "although which team to support; that will be the difficult." Harry frowned, as if it should have been obvious.

"I will have to consider the capabilities of both teams, to be sure to make a fair assessment," she began, as Harry continued to frown. "Tell me Harry, between the two, has Gryffindor or Slytherin won the most games?"

"Slytherin," replied Harry, reluctantly.

"And overall, of the other four houses?"

"Slytherin".

"And you play for Gryffindor?"

"Seeker," he nodded.

"And Draco Malfoy…seeker…for the Slytherin team?" He nodded slowly. "Well," she continued solemnly. "I think through careful examination of the facts, Harry, and you must understand I have concluded in a _scientific_ manner, then the only team I could consider supporting would be Slytherin." Harry gave her a look that would have rivalled that of Molly Weasley.

"So," continued Cecilia, smiling broadly. "When the match is held, I'll be sure to be sitting with Gryffindor house. And now," she said as Harry broke into a smile, "enjoy the rest of the evening. You've worked well and I thank you."

And now I need to think how energy plays a part in all this, Cecilia thought, as Harry left the muggle studies classroom. She looked down at her lab book. The drawings were awfully good, and not for the first time, Cecilia considered whether talents and skills, such as drawing were personal to the wizard and that magic was just a medium through which they were expressed. In the same way as if she was the most powerful witch in the world, she still wouldn't be able to sing. Though her acting abilities, which had allowed Harry to vent his feelings in the most restrained way possible, were entirely her own.

It would have been much better if Snape had been able to work with them; she could have discussed the function of some of the cell organelles, which she was sure had something to do with the energy in wizard cells. Perhaps they could develop the social factor too, the one of which he had been keen to appraise her. Never mind, thought Cecilia, turning to her research notebook. He plainly has his reasons.

She looked down at the space beneath her last sentence and, pausing to collect her thoughts, began to write…

88888888

"…earth to Cecilia Frobisher, come in…shrk shrk…" Cecilia looked up. The failing light in the classroom made her shiver, and she got up, book still in hand, to light the old-fashioned Victorian-style streetlamps that were fixed to the wall.

"…shrk shrk…it's life, but not as we know it…" Cecilia looked round.

"Sirius!" she yelped, when she saw his head in the fireplace. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

"Hard at work I see?" He continued to grin at her surprise at seeing him, and nodded towards her notebook. She frowned. How come Sirius was here? How did he know where she was? And why was he popping in unannounced?

"I'd hardly still be in the Muggle Studies classroom at half past ten on a Friday evening if I was relaxing, would I?"

"I don't know," retorted Sirius cheekily. "They say muggles have strange ways. For all I know you take your work to with you to bed."

"Did you want something?" Cecilia had sat down on the bench near the large open fireplace. It was strange seeing Sirius again; she'd last spoken to him almost a fortnight ago; she'd let out her feelings to him about Mysterious Mythology: about the break-in. He'd been sympathetic.

It was good talking to him though; though laced with impertinence he usually had something interesting to say, but just now she wasn't in the mood for him winding her up. But she wouldn't tell him to go, either.

"Dumbledore said a person from the Order would be in touch about your going away," he said, still smiling.

No, thought Cecilia, alarmed. Not you, Sirius. I'm not sure I could tolerate your distracting ways when I'm trying to work.

"I'm not sure you – " she began, but stopped. He was still a wanted man; he couldn't leave Grimmauld Place, could he?

"Not you?" Sirius shook his head.

"I think it's Tonks; I spoke to her today. She was going on about how it was great to see the other side; couldn't wait to see what a vellytision was." Cecilia chuckled inwardly. "If it's on my cousin's mind, it's on her lips."

"Well I know which side of the family that comes from," said Cecilia, provocatively, "unless she gets it from her father, in which case it's pure coincidence!"

"What's that, Mrs Frobisher?" he said, a hint of mischief in his eye. "And I thought you were kind hearted! If I didn't know better, I'd just think you were a callous…unfeeling…cold…insensitive woman."

"What makes you think you do know better?" Cecilia asked, playing along now out of defence. "Maybe I am, and you don't know?"

"Well I did spend a night with you, Cecilia, and I consider myself a good judge of character."

"Maybe you should re-evaluate what you use to base your judgment, Sirius, for I am just as you described; cold hearted and callous." It was a little unfair; she had started it. But now Cecilia changed her tone to at least attempt to show she was now wresting control of the conversation that could so easily slip off to somewhere she didn't want to go.

"Now, other than stopping me working on the most important piece of research so far and making me jump out of my skin is there any reason other than the possibility that Tonks may be coming with me that caused you to interrupt?" She folded her arms and looked slightly indignant.

"See how you are, check you're OK," said Sirius, his tone changing form cheeky playfulness to solemnity. "To make sure everything's going well. Is it?" Cecilia stopped.

"Everything's marvellous, Sirius. I'll be going home in a few days' time, it couldn't be better."

"I'm glad to hear that, Cecilia, because last time I spoke to you, you were down because of your room and Mysterious Mythology." Cecilia thought back. She'd been crying, she remembered, then she'd remembered the letter, and had watched Sirius's head appear ghostly in front of her in the fireplace.

"I got it back," she said simply, then wondered why she had felt the need to justify herself. "And Minerva helped me tidy up." Thank you for caring.

"Is everything else OK at Hogwarts? Harry not playing you up too much? The children? Sni…Snape?"

"No, everything's fine. I'm making way on the work; I've got all but one hair sample –" she stopped and glanced at Sirius momentarily before continuing, wondering why he would mention Snape and an image of their younger selves before Dumbledore from Minerva's memory came to the forefront of her mind.

"The science is progressing," she said simply. "We're making more and more connections."

"That's good Cecilia, really. Long term, it's going to be best for all of us. It's just wizards tend to get stuck in our ways a bit; hard for us to think laterally, I suppose."

"Makes sense," said Cecilia, thoughtfully. "I think it's because you do have magic, Sirius. Because you know it and use it in addition to other things." She stopped, not least because she realised whom she was addressing and hadn't quite got over his "limit of conception" comment. "Work stuff," she added. "Sorry."

"Don't you think of anything other than work?"

"Hardly. The sooner I can get this done for the Order and Professor Dumbledore, the sooner I can go home for good. Severus can take over and make the potion." She almost added, "if he ever takes the time and trouble to understand this, it'll be quicker" but stopped herself in time. There is no way she wanted to get amongst an old feud tonight.

"Back to your lovely house and life," said Sirius. "Two cats in the yard and all that." Cecilia stopped herself again from saying something caustic defensively, as she recalled the comment she remembered Snape making to Moody all those months ago.

"Something like that, yes. Hadn't given it much thought, though it would be great to see my family again."

"Me too," he said, and there seemed to be a touch of sadness in his voice. "My real family," he added. "James, Remus, Peter, Lily, H-" he stopped dead. "My friends…like in the old days. Like school, before all this." Cecilia got to her feet and moved closer to the fireplace.

"Your going away will help, won't it, Cecilia?" he asked, almost imploringly, as if it up to her, Cecilia Frobisher, like a decision she was making, not an outcome and she immediately felt guilty about being inciting earlier.

"We will know much more, Sirius. The science we will do is important and insightful. We will get a lot out of it."

"The aptitude of muggles," said Sirius softly and added irreverently, "What would we do without it?"

"Are you insulting my intelligence, Mr Black?" asked Cecilia, teacher-like, her mind flitting to the memory Minerva had shown her. His sport at Severus's expense, and a girl's. Like nothing more than a passing amusement.

"I wouldn't dare, Mrs Frobisher, not your intelligence" grinned Sirius. Cecilia started to say something, then smiled to herself.

"Anyway, you can't go; who would I have to speak to when I get bored?"

"Who indeed," said Cecilia, stiffly. "Who would you have to distract and annoy?"

"Who would I have to rescue from perilous, life-threatening situations? Who would I have to –" he stopped, just as images of him touching her cheek and pulling her closer filled her mind. She fought them out.

"Well I think you'll have enough to do when Voldermort's gone and the wizard world changes. So if wizards really don't like change, then there's going to be a lot of unhappiness." She smiled.

"No, I think we'll all be able to cope. Anyway, I can see you're all right. I expect it will be Tonks; Dumbledore will really regret it otherwise." Cecilia smiled again. "Right, I'm off, got to leave you to your oh-so-important work."

"Yes, you must," said Cecilia, heart beating slightly faster despite the urgent warning in her head. "Goodnight."

88888888

Cecilia continued with her work that weekend, engaging her contingency plan of collecting the information she needed that would inform Nick what resolution to set the genetic material analyser. She had hoped Snape would meet her so they could again discuss work and had almost given up hope until she'd received a note from Dumbledore informing her he needed to see them both that Saturday, at 5pm.

Head buzzing as she worked out the most vital subjects to discuss she was stopped in her tracks as she hurried from the library by Dobby, who presented her with another note as telling her that her presence was not necessary. It also added that the Order member who would accompany her would be in touch personally the next day.

Turning tail, she returned to her room, wondering vaguely why she would receive two notes in such quick succession but Dumbledore had just made an error, she concluded.

In actual fact, however, she had been quite wrong to conclude that; Dumbledore was engaged in a meeting.

"You wish her to abandon the work, Severus? This is most alarming." Dumbledore was pacing round his office, glancing periodically at Snape who was standing before him.

"Not in its entirety, Professor, however I think it would be most unwise for her to leave Hogwarts."

"If I remember correctly, you came to me with Mrs. Frobisher a fortnight ago in order to vouch for her and you were in full support and agreement. What has changed, Severus?"

"If you recall, headmaster, I raised the concern of her safety…"

"A difficulty which was resolved by placing her in the care of an Order member. That they are aware of her presence at Hogwarts, or a least the presence of a squib called Elizabeth Mitchell, that is entirely to our benefit; as you yourself said Severus, before Mrs Frobisher joined us, that Voldermort and his followers would discover something of our plans.

"They bide their time, Headmaster. She probably will never be safe." Snape paced towards Dumbledore's desk, as if to appeal further, but stopped, and rubbed his left sleeve. Dumbledore watched him carefully before continuing

"In that case Severus, I cannot understand now the reason for your objection now, especially at such a late hour. The plan has formed as I imagined. The Death Eaters will await Voldermort's orders. Besides, Mrs Frobisher has set cover work for her lessons tomorrow and Tonks is probably already with her."

"The Dark Lord," said Snape, looking at Dumbledore as he began to pace. "As I explained…"

"Severus, you confirmed that if Cecilia were to undertake the work herself here, it could take months. Is that now not the case?" Snape stopped and stood there, silently.

"Then it is truly wrong for me to stop her when there is so much to gain, when there are few safety concerns and it is a course of action that Cecilia herself believes to be correct. No Severus. I don't believe what you have told me is a good enough reason to prevent her from leaving."

"However her honesty…"

"That she recovered the book that was taken from her, Remus Lupin's book, however crude the means; she believes in what she is doing, Severus and that should be enough for you, especially with time pressing against us, such as it is."

"How is she to get there?" said Snape, folding his arms. "It must be quick; if she is out of the grounds at Halloween, they will find her through the Auld Magic. And if they find her, they will do all that is necessary to extract the information they require."

"That is under control, Severus. Rest assured, she is in good hands with Miss Tonks. They will be back on 30th."

"But sir – " Dumbledore raised a hand.

"We have to allow Mrs. Frobisher a measure of freedom. She is her own person, Severus, we have seen this. In fact, I do not believe she would have been able to do this if she weren't – "

"But – "

"She will be in her own world, and back before you know it. As for the Death Eaters, I suspect from what you tell me they believe they are hunting the information they seek in the wrong place. I believe they will soon change tack, and that at least may buy us the chance we need. We have a strong card, even if we are not accustomed to her methods. We must play to our strengths."

"But last time, at home, with the book…Black…" At his own mention of the name, Snape fell silent, glowering as he began to pace again.

"Sirius has seen the error of his ways as regards to Mrs. Frobisher, Severus. We must believe him."

"Very mysterious, given his views of muggles," said Snape darkly.

"As is the reaction of your house, Severus. I believe they have, for reasons unknown, freed Mrs. Frobisher from taunts about her alleged parentage." He gave Snape a momentary look before continuing.

"No," concluded Dumbledore, rising from his chair and making his way over to Fawkes, who caa'd in anticipation. "I am quite decided: the benefits outweigh the risk; that is the simple truth. I will not prevent her leaving."

88888888

At the same time that Snape and Dumbledore were debating her departure, Cecilia was mourning the missed opportunities of the last month. Her hopes had flown high at the prospect of a meeting so as to gain Snape's opinion.

Cecilia believed that it was down to the cell organelles, the bodies within the cells that performed specialised jobs, depending on the type of cell. What she thought was that they accommodated for the energy of the spell in some way, and informed the subject of the spell (mouse, toad, child in detention) to change in some way. And, she reasoned, there must be a secondary mechanism that controls it, some form of feedback, which meant hormones were probably involved somewhere.

What she needed was his point of view, to see whether from his perspective this made sense, or indeed illogic. But this had not been possible since he had made no effort to contact Cecilia for a fortnight.

As she prepared to leave, Cecilia made a mental note to discuss the subject of cells, genetics and endocrinology more closely with Nick; his biochemical background would probably shed a lot of light on Cecilia's mechanistic approach. He may even shed some light on the energy mystery; answers about which Cecilia knew would enable her to solve at least some part of the puzzle, which loomed tantalisingly out of her reach.

No, she thought, as she paced round her room, what she actually needed was Snape to be there, to give her his unexpurgated views. Why had he barely spoken to her? Had he been avoiding the research because of what he'd told her? Did he regret talking about his pitiful childhood and his family? Had she not shown sufficient sympathy? Too much? Cecilia's mind ran through the possibilities.

Was it the Dark Mark? The image of the hideous weal on his left forearm appeared in Cecilia's mind; its' presence parasitical, as if living upon his flesh. She rubbed her own arm, and shivered as she remembered her own recurring dream. No, she thought. It had to be something else: the Order work of which she had little knowledge or wish to know? It would not be out of shame, she was certain, or he wouldn't have told her in the first place.

Energy, she thought shutting all other thoughts out of her mind. Cecilia opened her notebook again and sat on the bed. Was it silly to try to concentrate again when any moment now, someone from the Order would make themselves know and she would be leaving? The words on the page didn't seem to make sense any more. She'd looked at the page, checked and rechecked information, rewritten ideas, and interlinked and cross-referenced them for the last two days. She rubbed her eyes.

Looking across at her overnight bag, which she'd packed and repacked countless times that day, she considered her indecision about what to take, removing parchment, adding clothes, removing clothes and adding the muggle permit. Cecilia had come across it after the break-in but despite the fact she was going home, she felt she couldn't be too careful, especially after what she had discovered about Draco Malfoy's father. Caution still should be borne in mind.

Cecilia mentally scrutinised the contents of the bag again and her eyes rested on the angular item that was causing her bag to become mis-shapen. Mysterious Mythology. If Tonks was going to be her escort, she could ask her to give the book back to Remus. She had no real need to keep it now, and considering recent events it would be one less thing to worry about. Yes, she thought with satisfaction. Out of her care, no longer her precarious responsibility. Less reason for Draco Malfoy to take an interest.

Looking away from her luggage and back at the fireplace, Cecilia wondered how they would be travelling. Hopefully not Floo, she thought, glancing at the fireplace. Perhaps she'd be better off suggesting they caught the train?

Just then, emerald flames crackled in the grate.

"Cecilia," said Remus Lupin, looking round him.

"Over here," she said, leaning forward from behind the wall. Since the break-in, she'd moved the room around with Dobby's help and now the bed was no longer in full view of the fireplace.

"Remus?" enquired Cecilia, peering round the chimney breast. She smiled briefly to herself when her eyes confirmed it was him. There, that was the right way to Floo someone; not just appear.

"Ready to go?"

"Yes," she said, jumping off the bed. "So, you're the Order member I've been waiting for?"

"No, actually. Tonks is going with you, but I would rather like to go with her. I just came to ask whether that would be OK with you Cecilia, as it's your house we will be at tonight."

Cecilia stopped in the act of picking up her bag, and looked back at him.

"Why of course, Remus," she said, putting it down. "Er, yes, certainly," she added.

"Are you sure?"

"Er, yes, sorry. Yes of course. I just wasn't expecting you to ask me that." She smiled. "That would be great. Where am I meeting her, do you know?"

"There is a passage that leads from near the staffroom, Cecilia. She informs me you know of it." Cecilia nodded, and Remus grinned. "Follow it into the grounds and I'll meet you there. Our transport will leave from Hogsmeade."

"OK, but do know how to get there on my own; you needn't... "

"I dare say you do, Cecilia, but I'd rather. It'd be a pleasure."

Ten minutes later and Cecilia was more than grateful that Remus had met her at the entrance to one of the most unsecret of secret passages; despite packing the bare minimum, it still weighed heavy and despite her initial refusal, he insisted on carrying it for her.

They walked together towards Hogsmeade in the failing evening light, exchanging small-talk as they went: Cecilia inquired after the health of the Order, Molly and Arthur Weasley and the others; Remus of her life at Hogwarts: the food; the ghosts; the nightly terrors that she had until then avoided. Most pleasant, thought Cecilia as the lights of Hogsmeade drew nearer, most civilised. Not like the last time she had crossed the grounds of Hogwarts, almost three weeks ago.

While they walked, Cecilia took in Remus's appearance. She hadn't considered his age before; he had always seemed quite a lot older than herself but tonight, as he paced out the steps next to her briskly and with ease, she considered he seemed more youthful, more animated and full of life. As the young man Remus appeared in her mind she speculated to his having got over whatever illness had troubled him a few weeks ago.

Cecilia considered mentioning "Mysterious Mythology" to him, now he was going with them and thought carefully about how to approach it. He had given it to her, and he'd probably know by now that it had been stolen. But she didn't need to keep it any more, she didn't want it; the book was far too precious to be under her care. She had tried to return it countless times, she recalled, but each time a reason arose whereby it remained in her possession. Cecilia had tried to discuss that very subject with Sirius almost a fortnight ago but it had come out all wrong.

Now, as Remus recounted events at Hogwarts when he was a student there, describing Quidditch matches and subjects, Cecilia reconsidered raising the matter. Maybe there would be time tonight. She looked across at him as he talked and recalled the Remus from Minerva's memory: fair hair and down-to-earthness. So unlike Sirius. In the dark, she smiled to herself; glad to be in his company again; happy to be with him on her own, even for this short hour.

As they neared the buildings in Hogsmeade, Cecilia wondered how they would be travelling; maybe the reason she was to meet Tonks here was security and they would be travelling by Floo from the Three Broomsticks.

"She should be here," said Remus, as Cecilia scanned the streets. "I said half past."

"How are we to get there?" asked Cecilia.

"You'll see."

Just then, she heard footsteps hurrying towards them, and a figure dashed nearby.

"Wotcher," said the figure, addressing them. "Sorry about that, just got held up chatting to Rosie. Had to look incogneeto, didn't I?" she added, removing her hood.

"But you're a metamorph –" began Remus, but Tonks put her hand over his mouth.

"Double-bluff, see? If someone was looking for me the last person they would expect to see would be me, because I'd be more likely to look like someone else than me, but if I am me, it couldn't possibly be me, see?" She looked between Remus and Cecilia, imploring them to understand.

"Anyway, Cec'", continued Tonks, "Don't you look great? It's been ages since I saw you. I see Remus was the perfect gentleman?" she said, nodding towards her bag.

Cecilia nodded back, and considered her appearance; hair scraped back in a ponytail and clothes thrown on randomly, now slightly dishevelled after their walk over the moorland between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and wondered upon what Tonks had based her nonetheless complementary appraisal.

"You too, Tonks," said Cecilia. "Right," she continued, changing the subject "enough of this now, is one of you going to tell me exactly how we're going to get home, or what?"

Remus looked at Tonks, who burst out laughing.

"Shall we tell her then?" Remus said to Tonks, looking at Cecilia with mirth.

"I think we'd better," said Tonks as Cecilia folded her arms.

"OK Cec', enough with the guesswork; we're actually travelling by Knight Bus."

"A night bus? Do you get them up here? I thought, only in London..."

"No, silly," said Tonks, as she stuck out her arm. Cecilia went to take a step forward when a whoosh of air tore past her. "The Knight Bus."

"Watch it!" yelled Remus, pulling Cecilia back by the shoulder as a purple triple-decker zoomed out of nowhere. "Blimey, that was lucky," he added, smiling, helping her back to her feet. "The last person who got run over by the Knight Bus hasn't been seen since."

"Whole," added Tonks, smirking. Cecilia was just about to say something when a man appeared at the end of the bus. Tonks and Remus looked up at him.

"Lupin!" said the man, in a distinct East End accent. He was dressed as an old-fashioned bus conductor in a uniform that was slightly too small for him cross-over straps and flat cap. "As arranged. Anything for Professor Dumbledore, as well you know. Miss Tonks," he added, looking Tonks up and down as she frowned as being addressed as "Miss". He held out his hand to help her on as Remus jumped on next to her with Cecilia's bag

"And..." he said, looking at Cecilia curiously. "No witch she," he declared, looking at her further and with suspicion. "This is wizard transport, muggle. I cannot allow you on." He folded his arms as if posing a one-man defence of wizard transport, frowning determinedly.

"She's with us," said Remus, glancing at Cecilia. "Dumbledore," he added, winking at the conductor and tapped his nose. The conductor looked back at Tonks and Remus, then his face broke into a huge grin, and returned Remus's nose tap.

"Aoh, aoh," he said, grinning and extending a hand in Cecilia's direction. "Well why di'n' you say?" he said, turning towards Remus. "Yes, welcome aboard, Miss. My name is Stan Shunpike. I am the Knight Bus conductor for the evening." Cecilia smiled and took his hand, thinking how odd his introduction to her was, as if he had learned the dialogue from a script.

"Go through, go through," he ushered, as Cecilia stopped, looking at the bus. There were four poster beds packed into the lower floor of the bus, all bedecked with drapes, and above were crystal chandeliers.

She followed Remus and Tonks and, wondering where they were about to sit. Maybe the beds were comfortable in any case; it was a couple of hundred miles to get to Birmingham from their northerly location, otherwise it wouldn't be that pleasant sitting for three or four hours on a bus.

Just as she was about to sit on the nearest one, Stan turned to her. "Not there, Miss," he said quickly, moving her aside and looking at her severely. "You was about to sit on Mr Stand." Cecilia looked round, then back at Stan.

"But there's no-one there," she began, then saw Remus and Tonks giggling between themselves.

"Ah muggles, " said Stan shaking his head as if in despair as he approached the bed.

"Mr Stand. Are you all right?" Cecilia watched in amazement as the empty bedclothes moved and a man in an old fashioned set of pyjamas, carpet slippers and a nightcap sat up.

"Are we there yet?" asked the man sleepily.

"Not yet," said Stan, looking pointedly at Cecilia. "I was just warning you, like, as you was about to have been sat on."

"All right," said the man, yawning. "Wake me up when we get to Dovetown."

"So why couldn't I see him?" asked Cecilia, puzzled. "I realise this is all highly amusing," she added, looking between Tonks, Remus and Stan.

"Well, " said Stan, ushering her near the front as he converted a couple of beds to a pair chintz-covered settees, "it's not every day a muggle – MUGGLE ha! – gets on the Knight Bus, eh Ernie?" he said, addressing the driver.

"Look," he said, conspiratorially, whispering to her loudly behind his hand, "them's beds there...our transport here, well, I have to admit it ain't what you'd call the most modern of transports..." he gestured around, finishing by pointing at Ernie.

"...and Ernie well, " he continued, "...he ain't the best driver, neever..." he gestured to the beds. Cecilia followed his wave. "So, when you want to travel in the sleeping facilities, youse end up wanting to sleep..." he grabbed hold of her as the Knight Bus ground to a bone-jarring start, "...like the dead!"

Cecilia lurched forward as the bus began to move off. It whizzed across the grass, past the Three Broomsticks and the scenery of Hogsmeade began to blur into the backdrop of the failing evening light. Stan let go of her and Cecilia sat down next to Tonks on one of the settees, giving her a quick frown in the direction of Stan. Tonks nodded back and grinned widely.

Why couldn't they have Floo'd? It didn't matter that she felt ill afterwards, it would have at least been less magical, or magic she knew. She glanced out of the window again, feeling slightly nauseous and had a sneaking suspicion that they were not driving at all, but flying a few inches off the ground.

"So," Cecilia said, glancing round the bus again. "How long will it take to get to Birmingham, then?" Remus opened his mouth to speak, but Stan turned as she spoke, sitting down on the arm of the other settee.

"Oh, so it's Birmingham, eh? Down the M6? Dodgy place, some parts o' it. And they say Shepherd's Bush is bad," he added shaking his head. "Well, tonight we've got to drop off Mr Stand, just at Dovetown, like ee says, then we're all yours."

"Thanks," said Cecilia, acknowledging Stan in the hope he would stop engaging her in conversation.

"Don't mention it," he said, tapping his cap. "Muggle or no, it's always a pleasure to be of service."

88888888

An hour later and Cecilia opened the door of her house. Following a prolonged and complicated description of where she lived, Stan in his wisdom as "thirty years in the trade, man and warlock" had proceeded to drop them off a mile away.

Despite their less than auspicious start, the journey in the Knight Bus wasn't actually that bad. Admittedly Cecilia had felt anxious the first dozen times Ernie had driven too close to oncoming traffic on A-roads and motorways, but by the time they had been on top of them, the imminent and potentially terminal collisions had strangely but instantly disappeared.

Cecilia Tonks and Remus had chatted pleasantly together after Mr Stand had departed. Cecilia had asked about Petunia Dursley's sample, and Tonks had taken out a hank of hair, dark brown flecked with grey and winked conspiratorially. Cecilia had smiled back, thinking of the snow-white strand she had sandwiched between two sheets of parchment and stowed in her coat pocket earlier that evening, and the other, black and soft, Sirius's.

Remus had then showed them both the samples he'd collected, which had been donated from various Order members and Tonks had given Petunia's to him. Cecilia had thought about asking for them now, but instead, brought out the third sample she had been carrying, Harry's, and Remus stowed that too.

She had also brought up the subject of magic and they had both agreed neither her nor Remus would perform any magic unless it was absolutely necessary.

As the Knight Bus had approached the Midlands, Tonks asked Cecilia about her house. She had described it in detail, relishing with anticipation the home comforts that awaited her but as they stepped in through the front door, the warm cosy environment she had expressed was worlds away from the clutter and disorder that welcomed her.

Now, as Cecilia showed them both through the front door, her description of house beautiful fell somewhat short of the mark.

"Amy," called Cecilia as she switched on the hall light. Shoes, piles of papers and letters festooned the hall and she ushered in Tonks and Remus, feeling more than slightly embarrassed by the state of things.

"Amy!" she called again stridently, as she surveyed the house again. "Are you in?"

"Who's Amy?" said Tonks, looking at Cecilia as she took her eyes off the pile of bags and coats bedecking the stairs.

"My sister," said Cecilia loudly, as she strode purposefully into the living room, surveying a similar sight within, and then into the kitchen. "Bloody mess!" she added, then looked at Remus and Tonks, who had followed her in.

"Sorry," she added, smiling weakly at them. "Tea?" she asked, making her way over to the sink. "If she's left anything clean of course."

"I take it your house doesn't usually look like this, " said Remus, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

"Hardly," said Cecilia, running water from the tap into the sink and glancing exasperated at the pile of dirty crockery and cutlery awaiting washing. "No hot water, just a sec –" she added, turning to the central heating switch, then sighed: Amy'd let the boiler go out. Remus and Tonks exchanged bemused looks.

"Why don't you just sit down?" said Tonks, quietly. "It'll take us the shake of a dragon's tail to get this place how you like it."

"I don't think –" Cecilia began, then stopped. She felt exhausted, and coming back to her house in such a mess hadn't helped matters. Sinking back into one of her kitchen chairs she nodded gratefully, deciding this was an "absolutely necessary" situation.

Tonks nodded at Remus and five minutes later Cecilia glanced round her neat and tidy home.

Home, she thought, as she made the tea. How good it is to see you! She expressed the sentiment to her bricks and mortar before turning and thanking them both.

"Don't mention it," said Tonks, cheerily, "although I must say I can't remember ever seeing so much post." She handed Cecilia a huge pile of letters, some a couple of months old and some, Cecilia noticed with dismay, were bills.

"Anyway, as I was about to say as we came in, welcome, and if there's anything I can get for you whilst you here, don't hesitate. Just help yourselves to anything you need. Or just ask if there's anything you're unsure about," she added, her mind beginning to fill with a thousand and one situations which they, as wizards, may find difficult.

"We will," said Remus, smiling at Tonks. "So what is the plan for tomorrow?"

"I'll call Nick in a while, and make sure everything's fine. We'll have to be up at three so we can get to the lab in time, OK?"

"Three?" said Tonks in alarm. "What time is it now?"

"Nine fifteen," said Cecilia. "Don't worry, Tonks. I'll get the beds made up in a little while, plenty of time for your beauty sleep." Remus smiled and Tonks pulled a face at him.

"I'll show you up," Cecilia continued, putting down her cup and getting to her feet. Remus stood up to, but Tonks remained where she was.

"I'm knackered," Tonks admitted, nodding at Cecilia. "But I was hoping to be able to find out what a vellytision was before tomorrow." She looked earnestly between Cecilia and Remus like a child asking her parents for "one more story". Cecilia smiled.

"Right then," said replied kindly, "what we'll do is, I'll switch it on and while you're having a look, I'll sort out upstairs. OK?" Tonks's face lit up.

"Come on, Remus," she said, grabbing his hand as she got up. "Let's go and watch vellytision!"

Ten minutes later and Cecilia had made up two spare beds. She didn't know whether she should have just left it at the double, but then they weren't actually going out. Maybe it would cause offence, she considered, and should they wish to share, well: that was up to them. As she unfurled the duvet cover for Remus's bed a shadow of uncertainty stole across her mind, clearing as suddenly as it had appeared she shook the duvet into it firmly, making the bed neat and tidy.

Tonks and Remus seemed to have done a great job with the tidying upstairs too. Cecilia looked longingly at her own bed adorned with gloriously beguiling clean covers before forcing herself downstairs where she glimpsed Tonks and Remus as they had appeared to be making their way through the satellite channels, Tonks every so often grabbing for the remote.

"I'm just going to call Nick now," said Cecilia, as she entered the living room. "I'll set my alarm clock for three and I've made up the beds. Please, make yourselves at home, you don't need to ask me for anything unless you're stuck with anything." She sat down on one of the armchairs. "Is that OK with you?"

"As long as you're happy," said Remus, glancing at Tonks, who was nodding fervently. "It's your house, after all."

"And so I'd prefer you to be comfortable." Cecilia smiled again. "What have you found on the television?" she added, glancing at the screen. There was no picture, instead the screen crackled with black and white pixels. She switched on the power to the satellite receiver box and a picture flashed back.

"Oh," said Tonks, looking at Cecilia. "So that's what it does!" Cecilia looked, confused at her.

"Don't tell me you've been sitting here all this time just looking at the television with no picture! What did you expect to see?"

"Er," began Tonks, looking uncertainly at Remus. "We didn't exactly know. It did seem a bit strange."

"There," said Cecilia, showing her the remote control. "You can change channels by pressing these buttons. The pictures are like...you know when you said you'd been to the cinema?" Tonks nodded as Remus gave her a quizzical look. "The TV shows similar pictures to that, only there's more of them, with different topics of interest."

"All right, good night then," she nodded eventually as they both turned to embrace the world of visual media. "If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen, calling Nick. OK?" she added, when neither of them spoke.

"Uh-huh," they nodded, eyes glued to the TV. Cecilia smiled, and pulled the living room door to.

88888888

A cold wind swept across the field just beyond the Forbidden Forest. The moon waxed milkily overhead as the vernal atmosphere was tainted by the promise of frost.

Alone a man stood, whether waiting or lingering, it was not clear. The wind tousled his mousy hair, blowing it about tumultuously.

Every so often, the man glanced into the Forbidden Forest, then looked back down at his left forearm, as if anticipation of something and the welt thereon were inextricably linked.

And now it's clear he was waiting for something as he cursed under his breath; words such as "late", "weapon" and "Dark Lord" left his lips.

Presently another figure appeared, a dark shadow at first, flitting through the forest undergrowth as if the prospect of detection was completely repugnant. On entering the open space without the forest the figure crept – no – glided proximally to the first man; an acid-green tinge reflecting off his pallid complexion.

"Malfoy," hissed the waiting man. "So kind of you to show one of your faces. I was just about to leave to inform his Lordship that his most _faithful_ follower had allowed his nerve to fail at the eleventh hour."

"Why you little–" began the second man, almost spitting the words at the first. He stopped, and collected his thoughts as the first man began to leer, ominously.

"Let us not forget that you are only sent Wormtail, because of your spineless unquestioning order-following. I on the other hand choose to make decisions loosely defined round that guidance which the Dark Lord has so graciously instructed. Which do you suppose shows the better strength of character?"

"And let us not forget Malfoy," said the first man, hissing victoriously in return, "that it is well known that the Dark Lord trusts the best only those who have never dared to question him. When was the last time he granted you the honour of summoning the Dark Mark at his behest..._at his command_?" The man flinched as Lucius Malfoy took a step towards him, posture threatening.

"What's this?" said a third man, who had appeared without being seen. "Squabbling like a pair of school-children? Over what, pray?"

"My, my Severus," said Malfoy, his stately demeanour turning sour as he turned rat-like towards the potions professor. Wormtail sagged and stepped back slightly. "You were the very _last_ of us I expected to see at the Calling. And yet here you are."

"Unlike many others, I see Lucius. The faithful few, are we?" The first man, Wormtail, swung round, his face full of rage and ire.

"How dare you! You of all! I remained faithful Snape, when you were acting a lapdog to Dumbledore. When I was spying for the Dark Lord, where were you?"

"Yes," said Lucius Malfoy mockingly. "Where were you? Or should I say, with _whom_ were you? I can see she has yet to become a familiar sight to us and there you were, promising his Lordship the squib would be in his _care_ by now."

"I do not have to justify my actions, Lucius. I follow the commands of the Dark Lord himself. And, as I was saying, am I the only one to arrive, besides yourself? Not Bella? Not Crabbe? Nott? Wellington? Avery? Bulstrode?" He looked around, addressing empty space, person by person.

"It shall not be long before they come," said the first man. "No-one can resist the Mark, Snape, as well you know." Lucius shifted from one foot to another.

"Does that go for Avery?" insisted Snape, glancing with Wormtail towards the Forbidden Forest. "Is he still searching for answers?"

"Are you?" hissed Lucius, icily. "As I recall, you promised before all of us here that the squib would be his Lordship's by Halloween." Wormtail nodded in agreement slightly, as he surveyed the dark landscape.

"And if he did not have her, then we were to use the Auld Magic," continued Lucius, staring at Snape now, as if trying to read him. "The magic from the very start of wizard civilisation, as was Written."

"He will have her," said Snape, watching now as further figures proceeded speedily and silently to their throng. "How quaint Lucius, that you still believe in that superstition when the modern world is upon us. The 21st century is but three years away and here you cling, to mythology and dogma. Alas it will not be at Halloween. Things have changed. She is needed." Lucius span round now to face him; his eyes white hot with fury.

"And-" he began, but Wormtail stepped in front of him, breaking his gaze form the other figures that were nearly upon them.

"How _DARE_ you come with us with that news!" he yelled, stepping closer to Snape until the wizard towered over him. "You of all know the punishment he will mete out for your failure!" Snape said nothing, but raised one of his eyebrows casually.

"And he stands there, Malfoy," continued Wormtail, gesturing with mock-grandeur at Snape. "The double agent with instant promises and slick words, slippery to the last."

"Certainly," said Lucius Malfoy, "however this will not be solved by us, Wormtail. Patience. It will indeed be a delight when Severus Snape finally meets his downfall." He looked Snape up and down, critically. "Especially when he mocks the Auld Magic so casually." They both stared at Snape, who did not move.

Perhaps this stand-off would have carried on all night, had the subsequent figures, pacing rapidly over the moist ground, not joined them. Wormtail and Lucius Malfoy stepped away from Snape to welcome the newcomers.

"Bellatrix," said Lucius, bowing slightly to his sister-in-law. "What a pleasure it is to see you tonight. Ravishing, as ever, I see?." He eyed her critically as she surveyed the members of the group through her skull-shaped mask.

"Lucius," she replied, disdainfully. "I did not believe I would have the pleasure tonight. I would have thought you'd have kept your treacherous head down following Draco's inability to merely hold onto a book..." She snapped the words into the night and the assembled Death Eaters, more joining by the minute, cast looks of contempt in his direction.

"And by the squib, no less. My, my, he must be such a source of pride to you."

"And you let her!" exclaimed Malfoy, spitting the words towards Snape as he turned towards him. "You're the head of house, why did you not take it from him?" Snape stood coolly, eyeing the followers and said nothing.

"Because he has feelings for her," said Rabastan Lestrange, a formidably-formed wizard standing just in Bellatrix's metaphorical shadow.

"May I?" said Snape, stepping into the circle that had been formed subconsciously by the assembled Death Eaters. No-one said anything as he glanced round at them all, their faces hidden by their skill masks and heads cowled in capes. He addressed Lucius.

"Indeed, she is...pleasing company." he said, nodding slightly as he looked at each Death Eater one by one. "However that is of no consequence to the greater Cause."

"Ha!" said Wormtail, in triumph. "A likely story. The stone-like heart of Severus Snape; entranced by a squib. A lesser being. _AGAIN_!" he proclaimed, then stopped dead when he saw the expression on Snape's face. The gathering was silent, watching carefully the unspoken words pass between them. Snape encircled his hand round what was probably his wand underneath his robe. Eventually, Wormtail lowered his gaze.

"This is incidental to the case," continued Snape, turning back to Lucius. "As for the book, I questioned Draco and asked for it to be placed in my care, but he refused. It was indeed his idiotic naivety which led Cecilia, or should I say Elizabeth to seek it." He glanced across at Malfoy, whose face was beginning to glow red in the black night, but who said nothing. "I endeavoured to acquire the book from Draco however before I could do this Draco felt the overwhelming desire to intimidate her, causing her to act accordingly. I can only assume he gets this endearing trait form his father." Lucius Malfoy took a step towards Snape, but stopped.

"So then, you are keeping her close," he said loudly, "for personal reasons. How long has it been, Snape, fifteen years since you've been with a woman? I suppose you can hardly be blamed for putting your own desires above your duty to the Dark Lord." He smirked as he spoke, surveying the other wizards, seeking support. One or two grunted in agreement.

If Snape as angered by the comment, it didn't show. He merely glanced round at the wizards and waited for silence.

"Mrs Mitchell's ability to interpret muggle science is our greatest asset," intoned Snape coolly, "and I in turn can use this to our advantage. It is in our interests gentlemen, and lady," he added, nodding around the group as if lecturing students, "that I allow her to do this. Things have changed, and as I said, she is needed. Then the mystery; the key that the Dark Lord is seeking, can be addressed. From a technical angle," he added, his gaze lingering on Avery and the man began to quake.

"I trust the same can be said for you?" The assembled Death Eaters as one all looked from Snape now; the potionmaster's final comment diverted attention to Avery, whose eyes widened and a look of panic spread over his face.

"Comrades, _please,_" he implored looking between Malfoy, Wormtail and Snape. "Gentlemen! Fellow brethren of the cause…"

"Noble words will not save you now," interrupted Wormtail, taking a step towards Avery. "Your father was just the same, slippery; begging for his own life till his last breath. Not content to sacrifice his life for the greater glory of the Dark Lord. But then you swore when you stood before him, not six months ago, that you would not repeat his mistakes." He stood near Avery and pulled out his wand.

"So," he continued, a look of horrifying pleasure crossing his face. "What have you for us, Avery; bearing in mind if you have nothing, you will indeed have...nothing." He laughed mirthlessly at his own joke.

"Er, I...er...well..." Avery stuttered, sinking to his knees and began to babble furiously. "I asked for a month...only a month..."

"Which you have had,,." hissed Bellatrix, also withdrawing her wand. "Am I not right, husband?" She turned to the other wizard by her side. "Husband!" she snapped.

"That is indeed correct," said Rodolphus Lestrange, his attention seized from a daydream by his wife. "A month, Avery," he confirmed. When Avery did not answer, Lucius Malfoy raised his wand and stepped next to Wormtail. Just then the chill breeze swept round the clearing.

"What's this," said a voice behind them. "Honourable supporters, not willing to give a man time to fulfil his promise?" The cold night air turned frostier still as the Death Eaters turned to see their Lord standing before them.

"My Lord – " began Wormtail, bending low to the ground before Voldermort. "I did as you asked!" he said, trembling slightly, his whole tone turning now from confident authority to meek servitude.

"I summoned your Mark. And see; your followers – assembled!" Wormtail gestured at the Death Eaters, his voice quavering as Voldermort stepped past him, critically appraising each one.

"So," Voldermort hissed eventually, standing in the circle of his followers. "You all made it. How very touching. It is a shame that not one of you were able to fulfil anything that I bade you to carry out."

"My Lord I –" began Lucius Malfoy, but the look he received from Voldermort was indescribable, making him sink to his knees.

"Not one of you has fulfilled anything I bade of you. How most distressing."

"My Lord," attempted Lucius again. "My son –" He stopped.

"The book, Lucius," said Voldermort, standing aloft and looking down on Malfoy. "Am I not correct in believing that your son _misplaced_ what we have been looking, what I have been looking for these last fifty years?" His words were like long-dead bones grating under mallets. Many of the more junior Death Eaters turned away from the scene; unable to face the excruciating tension being played out before their eyes.

"You," Voldermort swung round to address Lucius Malfoy, "were supposed to bring it to me tonight, yet you claim your son _lost_ it a fortnight ago. Am I not correct?"

"Am I not correct?" Again, the words, solid and cold, were pounding before Malfoy. He dropped his head.

"You...you are correct...my Lord..." he managed; his voice choked and thin.

"And am I not correct, Lucius, that the _squib_ retrieved it?" At this, a sinister breeze rippled through the late autumn night.

"But my Lord," Lucius replied in a calmer voice, as if defensively to regain a modicum of self-control. "Snape had ample opportunity to do something about this. He could have retrieved it from Draco at any time. However," he continued, warming to his own defence, "he chose not to."

"He has feeling for her!" exclaimed Wormtail accusingly, glaring at Snape, as if the level of his own malevolence was proportional Snape's guilt. "That's what caused him to fail you my Lord."

At this, Voldermort turned to Snape, but said nothing and for a few moments he looked at him. Snape looked back. The wind was the only presence that dared move between Master and Servant before Voldermort swung back round unexpectedly towards Malfoy. Before either could speak, a diamond-sharp voice cut through the air as a scalpel through silk.

"Is she beautiful?" Bellatrix demanded, clearly unhappy at the absence of derision she felt should be heaped on Snape by their master.

"Not in the least," said Lucius, addressing his sister-in-law. "Quite, quite plain", he added, looking back triumphantly at Snape. He caught Voldermort's expression, and his smirk fell.

"Enough!" barked Voldermort, refocusing his attention on Malfoy now. "That is immaterial. Your promise, Lucius, has not been fulfilled." Voldermort removed his wand from Wormtail's robe and held it aloft.

"You shall learn to better fulfil them in the future." He held his wand aloft and swept round, addressing all assembled. "The book is no good without the coding. And the interpretation is no good without the book." He pointed his wand in Lucius's direction and the proud wizard fell to his knees.

"Am I correct in believing Avery, that you have not been able to locate the correct coding form your father's effects?" Voldermort pointed his wand towards Lucius still, turning his head slowly to Avery.

"You are correct, my Lord- " The man was not as strong as Lucius, and he dropped to his knees too, bowing lower than Malfoy, his forehead almost touching the ground. "But I do have a month. Three days remain, my Lord. There is still time - "

"There is barely time before your promise is forsaken." Voldermort paced around to the unfortunate Avery. "Nevertheless you will have your three days. Whereas you," he raised his wand in Lucius's direction. "have failed. Let this be a lesson that you do not do so in the future..."

As he spoke, a stream of blue-white light emanated from the end of Voldermort's wand, hitting Lucius full in the chest and spreading out over the whole of his body. Voldermort jerked back his wrist, like a fisherman casting a line wand those gathered watched as it encapsulated his body like a web. Malfoy roared in pain as the rest of the Death Eaters stood aghast; as one of his closest followers they had never seen Voldermort punish Malfoy, not even for the mistake that lead to Voldermort losing his powers all those years ago.

The Death Eaters stood silent thoughout though not without expression; some watching the torture in horrified fascination; some hung their heads or turned away, unable to watch. Avery, still on his knees, stared down at the ground, not daring to look up. Bellatrix was poised and frozen in midair, taking a step towards Lucius but stopping as if she had thought better of it in the nick of time.

Eventually the light subsided and Malfoy slumped over. Steam rose from his dew-drenched clothes as the Death Eaters looked between Malfoy and Voldermort.

"My work will not be delayed by further incompetence." Voldermort, pacing round the followers, who had the good sense to hang their heads in deference as he addressed them en masse, spoke clearly and smoothly.

"Let this be a lesson and a warning. The consequences for failing me are severe."

"Avery," hissed Bellatrix quickly. "Why not he?" The Death Eaters looked towards the wizard, who was still kneeling where he was. Voldermort stopped pacing.

"He has his time; I gave him his request of a month. I should not be so malign as to deny him that."

"Snape, then," snapped Bellatrix quickly, pointing in his direction. "He failed too..." At her words, the rest of the Death Eaters, and Malfoy, looked once again at their questionable colleague.

"Ah yes Snape, indeed," appraised Voldermort, looking him up and down. "Slippery to the last; I am aware of the nature of our friend my dear," he glanced back at Bellatrix, confirming her own loyalty in pointing out areas of weakness in their number. "And his use. However at present this does not perturb me, indeed the situation has two significant advantages which suits my cause."

"My Lord. I wish to add, there has been talk of Auld Magic – " Snape began, but was silenced as Voldermort began to address the Death Eaters again.

"Things have changed at Hogwarts. Our agreement, which our _loyal friend_ saw fit to compromise would have meant true understanding of the book by tonight." All eyes were on Snape again, waiting to see whether he would, however belated, suffer the same fate as Malfoy.

"My Lord," interjected Snape again. "The change in circumstance was unforeseen. I could not have predicted her deeper understanding of the evidence, something which I could not prevent her from investigating lest I aroused suspicion. However, despite the delay, the information will be complete and accurate."

"And what if it is not? Are you then failing our Lord to fulfil your own desires, Snape?" Wormtail's mocking tones reflected the feelings of many of the Death Eaters there. Time and time again they had witnessed Voldermort cede to Snape, seemingly to bend to an exclusive agreement to whose details they were not privy and which more often than not resulted in clemency for Snape where in similar circumstances other Death Eaters had been humbled by their master.

"_That_ agreement still stands," Voldermort addressed Snape now, as if the instructions, though unspoken, were clear. "Once it is completed and you have what we are looking for, you will bring her to me. We will bide our time, then Bella, you can see for yourself whether you think she is beautiful. I will not deny my followers that which they so clearly crave. She will not be sought through Auld Magic, however should she stray into our path at Halloween, that will be her misfortunate."

"And now, dear followers," continued Voldermort, his tone changing, "we will begin our plans for the biggest Halloween celebrations in fifteen years. I have regained my strength and power. It is time the world trembled at my name once more."

88888888

As they made their way up the Edgeford high street, Cecilia wondered whether she should have called Nick again before they left. The evening, tinged with frost, had left the air cold and crisp and still.

It was odd, Cecilia thought, that they should be walking to her work; she would have betted a pound to a penny that either Remus or Tonks would have suggested to Floo or apparate given half a chance, but neither had mentioned magic.

The laboratory wasn't that far away, maybe twenty minutes' walk, and that was one of the reasons she had suggested they walk. The other was to give her the thinking time she needed. Nick had been delighted to hear from her last night and wanted to know every inch of what she was doing and what she needed, and it had taken a lot of willpower to talk around the subject without giving away anything vital.

The science wing of the Order of the Phoenix walked silently and as they passed shops whose hoardings prodded their familiarity Cecilia's confidence grew. She had slept fitfully despite being at home and the same yearning to embrace the world that was her own goaded her to increase her pace down the cold dark streets.

"Are we nearly there yet?" asked Tonks, breaking the silence that had endured since they had left her house and adding a yawn for good measure. "I thought you said it was near," she added, glancing uncertainly at Cecilia.

"Keep up; not far now," said Cecilia, trying to contain her eagerness, and despite her own nature felt a little smug at her contentment in Edgeford's vacuous streets compared to the obvious unease of her companions.

"Those lights over there," she added, pointing ahead of them. "That's where we're heading." Cecilia smiled again as both Remus and Tonks followed the line of her arm; it wasn't as if she were revelling in their unease but, said a small voice at the back of her mind, it's about time she were in charge of what was going on. All those nagging questions she needed to answer. No Severus to tell her they were impossible or unprecedented. No Sirius to distract her. No Harry to tiptoe around. No students at Hogwarts whose education about all things non-magical were her diversional shield.

The cold air swirled past them again as Cecilia led the wizards down a narrower path as they headed out of the town. The glow of the sodium streetlights began to fade as the familiarity of their journey relayed itself into Cecilia's subconscious, and her thoughts drifted to the previous twelve hours.

Had she slept, Cecilia thought to herself? She'd remembered waking up on the sofa; Tim's picture on the carpet nearby and a cold cup of tea on the sideboard. But she hadn't felt like she'd actually rested and there had been an ache underneath her ribs that had actually made her stop walking up the stairs.

One thing was for sure though: she had not had the dream again, the one that had made her wake in a cold sweat wanting to cry out for help with all her might. The one where she is amongst his followers. About to be branded on her left arm as a Death Eater by Voldermort himself.

Maybe she had slept well then? One thing was for sure, it was less than twelve hours since she had left Hogwarts but it felt more like twelve days.

And what of Remus? He had been ready and waiting in the kitchen as she's dragged a weary and sleep-deprived Tonks downstairs. She'd asked if he'd slept well insisted on carrying her bag once they left. But now, coming to think of it, he hadn't actually said anything at all. Had he even slept? Cecilia had a funny feeling he'd not slept at all, and an even funnier one that perhaps he'd not asked to come just to keep Tonks company.

Crunching gravel underfoot, Cecilia slowed her pace as they neared a small industrial estate surrounded by recessing fields on the outskirts of the town. She stepped sideways so she was walking on the grass, and followed the fence round to the side of the nearby unit until they were level with the rail freight doors.

"Is this it?" asked Tonks, whispering close to Cecilia. "Are we here?"

"Sh," said Cecilia. "We need to get past here before we're out of the woods. I still have my pass, but if security see me it'll mean a lot of awkward questions."

Without waiting for either of them to reply, she stepped out into the yard, and scuttled towards the outer personnel gate. The security light, which Cecilia had expected to click on, didn't, and she hurried towards the second gate.

"There, all safe," said Cecilia, stepping aside to let Remus and Tonks pass through the second gate as it clicked open. "We're here," she added for Tonks's sake. For an Auror whose work seemed to involve many covert operations during the night Cecilia did wonder that Tonks was taking this mission rather too badly.

"I made the bed," said Tonks, as she walked through after Remus. "OK?" she added, glancing back at Cecilia.

"Thanks."

"Can't believe we're up at this time," she added, "it's not even light."

"You're always up at this time," said Remus nodding towards Tonks, with a half-smile. "_Is_ this the right place?" he continued looking round at the units in the half-darkness, then back at Cecilia. "It doesn't look like any mug- laboratory I imagined."

"My pass still works and the security lights didn't come on," said Cecilia. "Let's hope the rest of this comes off as smoothly. Just up here. Then you can put your feet up, Tonks." She pointed towards a gap ahead of them in the brickwork underneath a first floor mezzanine balcony and her pace picked up towards the orange halflight which outlined a door within the darkness.

"Wait up," huffed Tonks, as she and Remus hurried to catch up, but Cecilia took no notice as she hurried towards it as the realisation that she was finally home flooded through her every nerve. Reaching the frosted u-PVC glass door, she raised her hand to knock, but the door opened and she almost fell through, her momentum carrying her.

"Cec!"

"Nick!" she gasped, utter relief and exhilaration bubbling up to the surface and overwhelming her. Nick raised his hand palm facing for a high-five, their usual mode of greeting, but quickly pulled it back as she hugged him firmly round the waist.

"God, I've missed you!" she whispered to his chest; exhilaration ebbing from her.

"Well that's what happens when you bugger off down south, " Nick replied pragmatically, hugging her back. "Knew you couldn't keep away from the place. And I see you brought a couple of them soft southern beggars back with you?" he added, peering over her shoulder. Cecilia released her hug, and smiled.

"Nick Smith," she said, recovering her professional self and smiling at a bemused Tonks and Remus. "I'd like you to meet two of my colleagues…" she paused, not knowing whether to introduce them by name. Remus broke the silence for her.

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Smith," he said, holding out his hand. "Remus Lupin, and this is…"

"Tracy Tonks," said Tonks quickly, ignoring the looks she received from both Cecilia and Remus and holding out her hand. "We both work with Cecilia in the Patent Office. It's an honour that you can help us out Mr. Smith. The puzzle she had been working on has confused us all." Cecilia and Remus exchanged glances as Nick took Tonks's outstretched hand and shook it, grinning.

"Cool hair," he said to Tonks, still grinning. "Pink suits you."

"Thanks," she said, beaming back.

"Will I find everything where it was when I was here last time?" Cecilia interrupted. Tonks and Nick dropped hands. "Or has Jamie had his move round, at last?" 

"Why don't you have a look round before you start?" said Nick, stepping back from the door of the lab, and letting them all step inside. "It's probably not as funky as the kit you have down in London mind you; but we did get an LX250 in last month."

"And I suppose Hank doesn't know about the mods you've done," said Cecilia, walking into the reception area "Don't give me that," she added as he threw her a hurt look. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't!"

"You know me too well," moaned Nick, as he showed her the new HPLC. "How come you know me so well?"

Cecilia did not reply, but simply smiled to herself. She'd made it. Tonks had done her part by escorting her safely here. All she had to do was prep and centrifuge the hair samples that Remus had in his coat pocket then set the chromatography going and print off the DNA traces. In an hour or so she would have done something that no-one else had ever done.

Breaking off her train of thought, she turned back to Nick. Cecilia did know him well, and for the dozenth time that morning thanked him in her mind for being the trusting, unquestioning person he was.

"Thanks," she said. "Maybe one day I'll tell you exactly what it is I'm going to do."

"So it's illegal and immoral then," he said, gesturing towards the biotech area of the lab.

"Absolutely," she smiled. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with that."

"So I take it you want me to leave you to get on with it?" Cecilia nodded.

"Well in that case. Tracy," he said, turning to address Tonks. "I understand your laboratory does not have an NMR nor a facility for organic synthesis." Tonks glanced back at Cecilia, who shook her head.

"We don't, but I bet you do," Tonks said brightly.

"Then I should be happy to show you round this modern facility of ours," he said, taking her by the shoulder and leading her out of biotech and back into the main reception. "You know Tracy, my boss, Mr. Hankinson, he'd have a fit if he knew that I modify most of the kit before we put it into use. But if we didn't we wouldn't make half as much margin on the routine analyses from the Pharma companies as we do…"

"So," laughed Remus, as they watched Tonks and Nick leave, "are you ready for this, Cecilia? Do you have everything you need?"

Cecilia half-nodded back as she took in the analysis equipment on the benches. There was indeed everything there. All she had to do was to input the appropriate program into the computer, prepare the hair samples then wait for the analysis. She turned her head towards the reinforced glass door, and walked towards it.

"Here you are," Remus said, following her. He handed her a packet from inside his woollen coat which contained the samples of hair that the wizards had donated. Cecilia smiled and took them from him, looking at the array of colours before laying them out on the bench. Her hand drifted to her pocket and she pulled out the other two samples which she also intended to analyse, those of Sirius and Draco Malfoy.

Considering the most appropriate programme, she barely heard Remus murmur that he'd leave her alone to work, but she caught his comment, and turned quickly.

"Wait," she said urgently to Remus's retreating back. "What?"

"I said I'll leave you to it, Cecilia," he said, smiling wanly. "I, er, wouldn't wish to intrude. It's your work, after all – "

"It's all our work; for the Order. I don't mind at all if you stay, if you like. To be honest, I could do with a hand, seeing as Nick has seen fit to take Tracy for a tour round the lab. You collected the samples after all…"

"Love to," said Remus, smiling a little more. "Just tell me what you'd like me to do."

Cecilia walked across to the brand-new Apple Mac sitting in the corner of the lab, and opened up the cupboard doors on the right-hand side. Excellent. Nick, bless him, had arranged all the glassware they would need neatly inside the cupboard. His own handwriting, neat and blocky adorned the solutions that needed to be made up within 24 hours.

Not that he'd admit he'd done anything to help her out; just like when they worked together, so Cecilia never mentioned it to him. Her heart lurched slightly in her chest as she remembered their own personal working arrangement.

"If you start by switching on the computer," she said, as she pulled out the correct glassware and placing it on the bench. "Just there," she added, when she noticed that Remus was still where he was. "Log in as "Labuser", password: assay." Remus frowned briefly, looking sheepish.

"Well actually, Cecilia" he began, taking a step towards the computer and looking at it uncertainly. "I'm not sure I can…I wouldn't know where to start…"

Cecilia stopped what she was doing and glanced in his direction. Of course. She recognised the same look on Remus's face, the same look that she'd worn s many times in the wizard world when things were beyond her skill or comprehension.

"OK," she said, trying not to sound patronising. "I'll sort it. Could you lay out the hair samples on the bench there? In the drawer over there are some stickers; could you label up which sample is which? Stick one on the hair sample, and another with the same information on a beaker?" Remus nodded, following Cecilia's gesture as she indicated the small plastic capped beakers on the first row that contained the solution they would need for the analysis.

Cecilia pushed the button on the computer tower. The words Microsoft logo flashed onto the screen, along with another message commenting succinctly on the severe lack of quality in the software. Cecilia smiled. It looked as if Nick had done more than reprogram the computer.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled again, this time at Remus, who was unfolding the hair samples of different colours and amounts. Soon she would know the secrets of the wizards, contained within the cells with this wonderful technology.

It would work thus: the hair samples would be treated with an alcoholic and acid solution which would help to break down the cell wall. The nucleus of the cells, where the DNA is stored, would be exposed and the outer wall would begin to break down too.

Before this happened to a great extent, the sample would put into a centrifuge, which would spin the sample, allowing the DNA to be isolated. Then the DNA can be analysed, and a trace produced, with the different bands, representing different chromosomes.

That was the theory anyway. All Cecilia had to do was add the solution, put it into the centrifuge, and let the analyser do the rest, and the whole process would take about an hour and a half, but it would have been much longer if Remus hadn't offered to help.

Cecilia had just finished inputting the analysing sequence when he stopped writing.

"Done?"

"Cecilia," he said, looking at the bench. "I've two samples left over; there's a single strand here, and some black hair. These weren't ones from the samples in the bag."

"These?" she swallowed before stopping and starting again. "No, these aren't the hair you got from the Order. I need to test these as well, to get a match, and make sure the equipment's working all right." Please don't ask me to clarify she thought. There's nothing in that sentence that's not true.

"If you could just label them "A" and "B," she added, turning back to the computer to finalise the timings. You can shut up, she said to her conscience. It isn't a lie, she added as it began to chastise her. I do need to test them as well; back-up can't hurt. And they'll go some way to calibrate the work.

"Oh, also, I'm going to need some of my own," she added, reaching into her bag and pulling out some nail scissors from her bag. She ignored Remus's look of incredulity as she lifted back her hair at the scalp, near her ear, and snipped off a few of her own strands before handing them to Remus.

"Right," she continued, returning to the computer and beginning the work she had pictured herself doing for the last month. "Could you call out the names for me, Remus?" she said, when she'd seen he'd finished labelling. "Then could you write down numbers starting from 1 on the labels?"

"OK," he said. "Albus Dumbledore."

"One," replied Cecilia, typing in the name and adding "pureblood".

"Severus Snape."

"Two."

"Arthur Weasley."

"Really?" said Cecilia, looking at Remus. "We only needed one Pureblood sample."

"He insisted," replied Remus, smiling. "Molly wasn't too pleased, though."

"Three," clarified Cecilia.

"Harry Potter."

"Four."

"Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Five."

"Arabella Figg."

"Sorry Remus," Cecilia looked up again. "Is she our squib?" Remus nodded.

"Six."

"Benjamin Wergs. Muggle born."

"Seven."

"Cecilia Frobisher."

"Eight."

"Petunia Dursley."

"Nine."

"Sample A."

"Ten" she said, and typed an "S" next to it.

"And B," said Remus. "That's the lot"

"Eleven" nodded Cecilia, typing in "BD". "Right," she added. "Now we have to prepare them." She turned round from the computer. "If you could just pass the solution from the tray over there, we'll make a start."

88888888

Ten minutes' later and the samples had been prepared, and the DNA extracted. They were now being analysed, data collected and the results processed in the computer. Cecilia had told Remus it would be another hour at least, showing him to the staff workroom, and smiled inwardly to herself as he thanked her and sat down, dozing off almost immediately.

Tonks and Nick hadn't returned, but she was sure they would both be fine and, directing her thoughts to the analysis, she returned to the analysis laboratory, and switched on the other computer.

So, she had all the samples she needed. They were all in the process of being analysed.

Carefully she drew up a table electronically and typed in the information she had about each of subjects, including their characteristics and possible genetic combination.

If it were to work as she had predicted, the genes in wizards had to exist and combine in a similar way as the genes in muggles. If this weren't the case, wizards and muggles couldn't have children. Therefore the traits in the parents had to be carried on into the children for wizards.

Once she had finished organising her thoughts she pressed "print" and folded up the page into her bag, making sure the document hadn't saved onto the computer.

I wonder if this was how Watson and Crick would have worked, all those years ago, thought Cecilia, not with wizards obviously, she exclaimed silently, but thinking about characteristics. She looked at the screen, with the analysis timer at the bottom indicating time remaining and noticed the "Explorer" icon.

With that idea in mind, she opened up the web browser and searched for information on genetics. Google gave her a page with the history of genetics, and she clicked onto the page about scientists and she began to read.

Ah, she thought contentedly. This was how it should be. She could check research in the Internet, it was fresh and up to date. She could find out practically anything within seconds without sitting in a dusty wizard library looking over page after page for one measly entry like she had done with Raymond Lully.

Just then, Nick put his head round the door.

"Everything all right, Cec?" he said, glancing around. "Everything under control?"

"Fine, thanks," she smiled.

"Not at all; you're welcome any time, just make sure you bring Tracy with you and I'll open the lab up for you at three in the morning every Monday." He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "I left her in the workroom with the other fellow. She's a babe," he clarified, dreamily.

He strode over to the printer and glanced at the pages Cecilia had printed.

"You know, Watson and Crick weren't the first to suggest this. They were just the first that managed it."

"Always the same with Nobel prizes, eh?" replied Cecilia. "If you're first, as long as you don't die, and you happen to be in the right place at the right time, that's Nobel Prize-winning stuff."

"Dorothy Hodgkin got much better information than Watson and Crick ever did," continued Nick. Cecilia nodded. X-ray crystallography. But Nobel prizes aren't awarded posthumously.

"And there was a bloke that managed it before them too can't remember his name. He did it in the thirties. I suppose the war stopped him." He leafed through a few pages before turning the keyboard and typing in a website, then pressing print. The elderly Hewlett Packard wheezed into life again.

"Thanks," Cecilia looked over his shoulder at the screen, then back at Nick. "I know what I wanted to ask you, can you describe to me how the endocrine system is involved in energy and DNA? I'm not too clear."

"Well, it's all feedback, you know?" said Nick. "Sugar, well glucose actually. OK. You gain chemical energy, right? Through food." Cecilia nodded.

"So your insulin, that keeps your blood glucose stable, recognises when your cells have too much, and stops the source of energy, or too little, and provides energy as glucose. Then your blood transports it either away from your cells, or to them." He took her pen and drew a small diagram.

Insulin, thought Cecilia. That's got something to do with it.

"And of course if you have someone with diabetes…" he annotated the diagram. "But that's just homeostasis. You know the difference between mitochondrial DNA and that in the golgi apparatus? The structure?" Cecilia shook her head. At second year university level, this was just out of her reach.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Nick, frustrated. "God, if I only knew what it was you were looking for Cecilia, I could help you much better." He looked at her quizzically but resigned, and Cecilia's heart sank.

"I will tell you sometime, Nick, I promise you," Cecilia said quietly. "When I'm back for good. Right now though, I can't." Nick nodded, and smiled, giving her a brief hug.

"You'll have to manage with this then," he said, handing her his annotated diagram. "But you know, I remember reading how Crick got the idea from Marsden's wavelength experiments during the first world war. You know, the new ideas about atoms and energy? That's more your field."

"de Broglie, you mean," corrected Cecilia. "And Thompson did some work there too." She nodded in encouragement as Nick rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, when will we see you back?" Nick continued, changing the subject. "Young Freya and her mum are missing you and your pedantic ways something chronic."

"How are they?" asked Cecilia. "And how are you? Got yourself a girlfriend yet?" 

"Not yet," Nick said, with mock sadness. "Would interfere with my rock-and-roll lifestyle of senior laboratory biochemist. However if you choose to make my day by telling me Tracy's available, you're more than welcome."

"'fraid not," said Cecilia. "She's kind-of spoken for. They're kind-of spoken for."

"Point taken," said Nick. "However that won't stop me from living in hope."

"And Libby?"

"They're both well; Derek called me, asked me over for tea with them. But I get the feeling it was so Libby could grill me about you. You've done a dreadful thing, Cecilia Frobisher, by leaving her alone for so long. Freya was the only one happy to see _me_, though."

"Ah, poor Nick," said Cecilia, hugging him back again before walking back over to the Apple Mac. "I'll be home before you know it. Christmas is not far away, and I can't see it taking longer than that."

"Glad to hear it," replied Nick. "But I can't deny you're looking well on it. Busily overdoing it as usual, Cec; you seem to have put Tim behind you, and you're moving on. A safe steady piece of freelance work has done you the world of good."

Cecilia nodded, as the ache in her chest began to thud against her ribs once more. Stay calm, she told herself urgently. Think about something else – there's a hand syringe there; the scale's in centimetres cubed. Nick can't help being Nick-like. He can't help not being Libby. Concentrate: it would go away.

"And if it all goes well, you could do more of this freelance. But you'll have to let me in on the secret once in a while," he added with a grin.

Let you in on it?! shouted Cecilia silently at him in her head as emotion was released inside her. Safe?! Steady?! You want to have lived my life for the last four months Mister! There's a whole world out there we don't know about! Full of wizards and spells, and so much power and evil! And on top of that you want to be asked to do science about something you barely understand, and look it has to be secret, because other wizards mustn't know! And in order to do that you have to teach all these children about us! Muggles!

"So," she breathed, changing the subject and paying attention unnecessarily to the status of the analysis on the computer, hoping Nick wouldn't pick up on her choked tone of voice. "What's new here? Who did you take on to replace me?"

"Guy called Rex," said Nick, offhandedly. "Trying to get Hank to buy in some new-fangled electron microscope. Says that we'll be able to detect the range of frequencies more accurately."

"K and L shells?" said Cecilia, her sphere of comfort reinforced slightly now the conversation had moved into the field of physical science. "That's your own fault for employing a physicist. There's no possible use for that here, Nick. I presume you've told Hank this?"

"Daily," moaned Nick. "But I think Hank's got it in his head we can forge links with CERN, or something. Doesn't realise most of his staff are biologists. We're a biotech company after all, not bloody nuclear physics!"

"Indeed," she replied, the tide of emotion ebbing to a controllable plateau now. Why? Why was she having to feel like this now?

"How long've you got left? For the samples?" asked Nick, turning his attention to Cecilia as she carried on considering the analysis.

"Three quarters of an hour. Then we'll be off."

"Right on time. Then Jamie'll be in. You want a coffee?"

"No, I think I'll just go and get some fresh air." Nick nodded.

"You'll know where I'll be then," he added, turning in the direction of the staff workroom.

Cecilia turned in the direction of the fire exit and clumsily pushed the double doors that led onto the mezzanine gantry open, walking out into the cold night air. How could she have been so stupid?

She held onto the railings on the gantry, her grip tightening as her thoughts tied themselves in knots. Stop it, she heard in her head, as a tear leaked out onto her lower eyelid. Don't give yourself such a hard time, she heard her best friend continue in her mind. Did you really expect not to feel homesick? It shows you still love us all and want the best for us. That's why you're doing it, isn't it, for the best.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned quickly.

"Nick?"

"You're freezing," said Remus, "Wh- are you all right? Cecilia?"

Cecilia took a step back from the cold iron railings, turning away from him again and wiping the tear from her cheek.

"You're freezing," he repeated, touching her arm before pulling it away quickly when she did not respond.

"I apologise," he said quietly. "You want to be left alone."

"No," she said, still staring out into the night, at the lights of the town glowing in the distance, then turned round. "I just needed a moment to myself," she added, looking down.

"Well that's understandable," he said warmly, "but here, take this. I wouldn't want our scientist to die of the cold, now would I?" He held out his jacket by the shoulders and Cecilia unfolded her arms, allowing him to drape it over her shoulders.

"Now, Professor Dumbledore I could probably explain it to, but I wouldn't fancy my chances with Snape," he chuckled. "That's better, isn't it?"

"Thanks," she said, gratefully. "I didn't realise it was that cold. I suppose it is nearly November. Did you sleep well?" she added, remembering how easily he had slipped off to sleep over an hour ago and trying not to speculate about why he needed the rest so badly.

"I rested," he said, "I'm feeling much more refreshed now. I must say your hospitality was more than excellent, Cecilia."

"The bed was comfortable?" He nodded.

"Though I didn't sleep for long. To be honest, I'm not that good in unfamiliar surroundings, but I did rest, thank you. Is your research…will you have everything you're looking for?" Cecilia turned round, with her back to the railings, and folded her arms.

"Yes, certainly," she said, "although there are always room for improvements."

"Such as?"

"Well, Petunia Dursley's sample, for instance. That's as good as we're going to get because we don't have..." She stopped quickly, not knowing how to phrase the next bit.

"We, er…well –"

"You would have been better off if you had some of Lily's hair, rather than that of her sister." Cecilia looked round, feeling a flush of shame overwhelm her.

"I, well, yes," she stammered. "Then I could see directly genetic links. Siblings share genes but they are not identical to them. Unless they are twins, of course." Cecilia nodded again. "Yes," she confirmed turning to face her home town again. "That would have been valuable, and probably saved us a month on top of the work we have before us," she whispered.

"You miss your home," Remus said simply, walking over to join her by the railing. "So do I. My home was Hogwarts, when I was younger, and for a wonderful year when I taught there not so long ago. Hogwarts is a wonderful place. How is the old place?"

Cecilia continued to gaze out at the lights of Edgeford; bathed in the very earliest of morning light. Hogwarts was terrifying; even now that she had spent two months there. She supposed she was used to the terror, and had learned to live with it. But it had been only through returning home that she'd realised this; how close to death she had come one more than a dozen occasions.

"Sirius told me what happened with Draco," Remus said, addressing her but looking out at the town too.

"You must take the book back," said Cecilia, looking at him firmly. "I believe there's more to Draco breaking into my room for a joke. He wanted the book specifically; nothing else was taken. And anyway, I have everything I need from it."

"Draco broke into your room?" She nodded slowly.

"He never mentioned that..."

"It doesn't matter," she continued. "There are certain things I still have to and understand, and things I must do to understand them. My family, my friends," she gestured towards the town as she spoke. "Muggles by your name, if you like. I have to continue for their sake and these are just setbacks and difficulties I'll deal with." She shivered, and Remus put his arm gently on her shoulder.

"I don't think that Dumbledore realised how hard this would be for you," he said quietly. "To get this far, on your own, with all of these setbacks? I don't think I know a wizard that would have done it."

"Actually, I do," he added a few moments later. "Lily would have done anything for anyone. Lily did all she could for everyone. And that's why she's gone now. That's why Harry will never see her or his father."

Cecilia stopped and looked up at his face. He was in a different world now, she thought, back to the world when running around Hogwarts with his friends was the most exciting thing to do after exams. All those dreams and hopes, as she had seen in Minerva's memory.

"What was she like?" Cecilia prompted. He had listened to her; maybe she could return, at least in part, the favour.

"She was wonderful," he said, watching the trees move as he spoke, and holding onto the iron railings in front of him. "We were a family; the only real family I had. We did everything together, sneaked out of the castle, learned our spells. If it weren't for Lily, our group wouldn't have held together."

"The Marauders," said Cecilia absently. Remus looked at her quickly, before slowly looking back at the landscape.

"Yes," he confirmed. "That's what the- Professor McGonagall named us. Those were the days," he added. "What was it like for you?" He glanced at Cecilia as she surveyed the landscape.

"My school," she pointed, "just back there, the buildings rising up the hill back there. And there, the Aquarius ballroom, which was a youth club on a Wednesday. Those are the things in my youth. It just seems so odd Remus that now, whenever I think of the past, I automatically incorporate the new information I discover. I'm sure one day, if what Dumbledore says about my memory being charmed to forget all this is true, I may just accidentally slip something out which I'm not supposed to. Especially when I've got so much damned stuff to do which I know is out there, just beyond my reach!"

"Cecilia," he said, taking her shoulders. "I didn't realise. You could have talked to me, asked me anything about this. Are you still looking for information on Raymond Lully? Is that's what's troubling you?"

Cecilia didn't answer him; a wave of frustrated anger swept over her which ended in a few hot tears and she did not stop the wizard pulling her closer to him, rubbing his hand on her back.

"What can I do for you?" he said, still holding her to his chest. Cecilia felt the wave of anger ebb away from her and she eventually pulled away.

"I never thanked you properly for what you did in the summer," she said, wiping her damp face with the back of her hand. "I know I left to go back with Severus, and I still think I made the right choice, but I did appreciate your concerns for me," she looked at Remus in the eye.

"What is it you need to know?" he said again, looking earnestly at her.

"Draco Malfoy," she said. "I need to understand. How is he related to Sirius's family, and Tonks's?"

"Sirius's aunt Narcissa married Draco's father," he replied. "And Tonks's mother Andromeda is another sister. The pure blood families have disowned both Sirius and Andromeda. He lived with the Potters in London, Godric's Hollow. Then when James and Lily got married and lived there too."

"Its no wonder then that Sirius is so protective of Harry, then" she said. "He's practically his uncle," she added. Remus nodded.

"How about Raymond Lully? I know I've asked you about him before, but I'm still no further on." Remus shook his head.

"What about "Reciprocator"? I'm still no further on with that one either. It's got something to do with the Goblin Riots."

"I'm afraid I've not heard of that term. And as for the Goblin Riots, there are two opinions about those. The goblins rose up and rioted because they felt they were enslaved to the wizard world. But many now think they were caused by Voldermort." Cecilia sighed. Nothing she didn't already know. And then a connection sparked in her mind.

"Who's Peter Pettigrew?" she asked. When saw Remus's expression and wished she hadn't; Remus's expression had turned to stone, and he began to wring his hands.

"You don't have to tell me," she added. "It's just a name I heard. He was one of the Marauders though, wasn't he?" Remus turned to her and nodded slowly.

"Yes," he said. "One of the Marauders. So much of our friend that he condemned us all to death or a life close to it. He betrayed them, Cecilia, James and Lily, then tried to put the blame onto Sirius, which was why he was sent to prison!"

Remus's words rang out into the cold night air, and now it was Cecilia's turn to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. She stood next to him feeling aghast, though not surprised at the tone of voice and the level of hurt he had just expressed.

"Please let me say now how truly sorry I am," said Cecilia after a while. She kept her hand on his shoulder, and Remus patted it back.

"We cannot dwell on the past, only the future. For both of us. Agreed?" he turned to Cecilia, who gave him a small smile. So this was it: two wounded people promising one another to turn their grief into well, lesser grief.

"Agreed," she said. "Now let's go back inside. I expect Tracy and Nick will be looking for us, by now. And if they're not, the samples will be finished." Cecilia took a few steps towards the door, then opened it, flooding the mezzanine with electric light from inside. When she realised Remus wasn't following, she looked back to see the wizard looking straight back at her.

"Come on, what are you waiting for?" she said, smiling. "Christmas?"

A few minutes later and Cecilia was collecting the information from the computer, taking care to delete the run programmes from the hard drive. Remus had gone to look for Tonks and had left her to it. As she collected all of the work together, and put it into a large green box file that she had stolen from one of the cupboards in the lab, she noticed a pile of print-outs that she hadn't made.

Looking at them, she realised they weren't just the ones that Nick had printed out, there were many more, mostly to do with the endocrine system, and DNA. Her heart softened towards her favourite ex-work colleague as she realised he must have done this for her when she and Remus were outside.

Cecilia tucked them inside the box file, and as she did so, a word on the bottom the top sheet caught her eye.

"Reciprocal."

She glanced over the page again, as her mind raced but all it consisted of was an equation, in which the author of the webpage was describing a reaction mechanism.

You're so hung up on this work, she thought to herself, as she packed them into the box. Give it a rest till we get back eh? she told herself. She placed the box on the table, then glanced at the computer.

Why hadn't she thought about it before instead of losing her cool outside?

Sitting on the stool by the computer, Cecilia Frobisher, ex-employee logged into the company's network. Clicking on the Internet browser, she soon had the Google page in front of her. Before she could type anything, however she saw Remus coming back down the corridor.

"I couldn't find them," he said. "I expect they can't be far, though."

"I did tell Nick how long it was going to be," said Cecilia, swivelling round. Damn. She wouldn't be able to do this now, and she mentally kicked herself for missing the opportunity.

"Cecilia," said Remus, looking at the screen. "How is it that this works, exactly?" He looked at the keyboard, and back at her. "I, er, must confess I've a bit of Arthur Weasley's curiosity about things like this," he said sheepishly.

"Do you mean the computer, or the electricity, or the Internet?" He looked at her blankly.

Five minutes later he was looking at her more confused than blank.

"So the Int-net just told us that Romulus and Remus were the founders of Rome? Well," he said, I never knew that. How marvellous, Cecilia." Remus looked at the screen looking truly excited. "May I?" he asked. She nodded, gesturing towards the keyboard.

"Just press the keys, and you can make any of the words appear on the screen." Biting her lip, she stopped herself from adding, "just like magic".

"So you can find anything out?" He touched a couple of the keys, and looked at the screen as if they were about to jump out and bite him.

"That's the idea," said Cecilia. "It's not wholly accurate, but it is something. Do you want me to type?" Remus stepped back, nodding as she leaned forward.

Another five minutes elapsed, as Cecilia browsed through the Internet, searching as Remus suggested topics, amongst other things, rubber ducks.

"I am staggered," he said eventually. "I never knew there was this much knowledge in your world, Cecilia, so much power."

"I just wish there was a way of doing this back at Hogwarts' library," she said wistfully, an inner glow of happiness making her feel fuzzy inside. "I wouldn't have spent seven hours trawling through the books from the restricted section to find Raymond Lully."

As she spoke, both of them looked at the screen, then back to one another. Without saying anything, she typed the name into the search engine. Three entries appeared. She opened the first, and scrolled down, looking for the name, then opened the first one.

"Anything?" said Remus

"Just a second." Cecilia opened up another window, typing in "Reciprocator". When no documents appeared she switched back to the first and opened the first entry, which had the same webstem as the other two.

"Scientists," she said, looking over a list of names. "There seems to be a great deal of information about some physics experiments," she clarified, scanning the page. Famous ones, by the look of them, they included those of Planck and also the famous one by Millikan where the electric properties of an oil drop were tested to determine the mass of electrons. But there seemed to be several dozen pages. She scrolled down to the bottom, then stopped, examining the screen with her finger.

"Lully!" she said, scanning down the page. "I just saw that name mentioned here. Wait," she said to herself. Damn. Where was it?

Cecilia continued to scan the screen, speed-reading until her eye caught something. My word, she thought. This was something. At the bottom of de Broglie's experiment, the author referred the reader to the genetic advances that were to come in the field of biology concerning the storage of glycogen. The sentence following it read, "with the help of his assistant Lully, de Broglie produced the clearest images of electron energy pathways which were used in 1937 by Avery in his research into the effects of energy on the cell nucleus."

"Bingo! That couldn't be a coincidence," she exclaimed, re-reasing the passage about biological energy then turning excitedly to Remus. Before she could get any further however, Tonks and Nick interrupted them.

"Ready?" said Nick, looking round the lab. "You've done a great job tidying up."

"Thanks, give me two minutes," she said, heart beating faster as her subconscious wrestled with the information she had just found, "just got to print this off."

"What, you haven't got the Internet where you are?" Cecilia gave him a look.

"OK, OK," he said, "but Rex'll be here in a few minutes and I would prefer it if you all were a presence I didn't have to explain."

"Why's that?" said Cecilia, standing by the printer as it churned far too slowly the precious pages that she desperately wanted to now sit and read.

"You've heard of Ockham's razor, right?"

"The simplest explanation is usually true?" said Cecilia, noting Remus's disappearance with Tonks to a spot just down the hall where it looked from their gestures like they were talking about their departure.

"Well, we have Rex, and for him, Hanlon's Razor applies."

"Which is?" said Cecilia, stooping to collect the paper to collect the paper she had printed and stowing it in her bag and glancing at an approaching Tonks.

"Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity."

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When Cecilia walked out of the Three Broomsticks that evening, the effect of the Floo were not as bad as they usually were. Tonks had suggested that it might be because she was getting used to them, but secretly Cecilia believed it to be the sheer relief that the task was over and she could finally start the long journey that was ahead of her that led to the destination of home.

Home had been the thought constantly on her mind since she had got off the Knight Bus almost a day ago, and though she had been trying to keep her mind on the job, the reminders of her old life had trickled through her like streams over mountain glaciers.

Once they had left the lab, and she had made a brief farewell to Nick, Remus had disapparated leaving Tonks to take her to an old bus shelter on the other side of Edgeford. They had agreed that Tonks would take her back the safest way and, considering the value of what she held in her hands; the DNA traces of eleven people and almost a ream of research from the Internet, Cecilia was not going to argue.

They had walked through town as it began to awaken, and Cecilia marvelled at how much the town hadn't changed. Danks's hardware, which had probably been there for over fifty years had signs in the window for another closing down sale. As they passed, she saw Mr. Danks switching on the lights which illuminated the ancient stock, some of which had been there for at least thirty years.

Then Tonks had stopped by what she'd described as ministry accommodation where they could stop for a well-earned rest before returning to Hogwarts that evening.

"But it's an old bus shelter," said Cecilia, before kicking her for thinking like a muggle and had followed the witch into it where the empty space transformed into a small room like a hotel suite.

"We'll bunk in here till this afternoon," said Tonks, throwing down her cloak. "You can relax, now. I expect you feel happy knowing that's all done." Cecilia had nodded as she had taken in the place, wondering to herself that she would have to forget she was in Edgeford and effectively sleeping on the street.

"Besides," Tonks had added, knocking off the lamp as she sat on one of the chairs and put her feet on the desk, "no self-respecting wizard would be out on the afternoon of Halloween; everyone who's everyone will be preparing for the feast tonight."

Cecilia followed Tonks out of the Three Broomsticks' back entrance, and towards the sparkling lights of Hogwarts Castle. The pub was heaving with revellers, all celebrating Halloween with gusto.

The school did indeed look prepared, as every window shone out white and brilliant and pumpkins, hollowed and ghoulish hung above the gates, getting larger and larger as they walked in the darkness.

"So what were you and Remus talking about this morning when I was off experiencing the wonders of the fellytone?" asked Tonks, grabbing one of the straps of Cecilia's bag when she staggered so they were carrying it between them.

"Oh well," said Cecilia, sighing slightly. They'd said very little since Tonks had cast a green arc with her wand and connected them remotely to the Floo network. "He was talking about Malfoy, and your family and Sirius. There were some things I needed to know. "

There was no time to sugar coat it, and besides, she needed a legitimate way of having the information. "I know they're related to you too," she added.

"Tell me about it," said Tonks. "That wretched family! You know, my father was a muggle born wizard, and Lucius Malfoy killed his parents personally!" Cecilia stopped walking, turning in horror to Tonks.

"You don't mean – " she looked at the young witch, open-mouthed.

"Oh, there was no proving it," said Tonks, distantly, dropping the strap of the bag and looking toward the castle, "but damned near broke my father's heart it did. No," she continued. "got the house elf under a blood deed. They're exempt from Azkaban you see, not considered worth the trouble. That's how it can still go on."

She started to walk again and Cecilia shouldered her heavy bag alone now, full of her precious belongings, things she'd packed and not used and "Mysterious Mythology, which Remus had insisted she keep.

"You see we'll all gain from this Cecilia," said Tonks a few moments later, as Hagrid's hut came into view, on the hill in the now-forming mist. "Not just muggle-baiting on a night like tonight," she added quietly.

Cecilia's thoughts rattled in her mind now, selfish yearnings overruled by fresh indignation. Whatever she did, she would not give up now. To know Tonks of all people, as lovely as she was with far better qualities than Cecilia, having had to put up with that in her life. Yes, she agreed, it was as bad as muggle baiting.

"Have you heard about the word "Reciprocator"?" asked Cecilia as they approached the passage beneath the castle that she had used two days ago with Remus. Tonks stopped and looked at her, glancing at the passage.

"I only ask, Tonks because I've got a reference to a Raymond Lully, with that word written next to it, and he appears to be related to Sirius, some cousin or other, so that means he'd be related to you too."

"I'm just following up on everything …" Cecilia's voice tailed off as Tonks stood by the doorway.

"You really are so thorough," said Tonks, grabbing the startled Cecilia close to her before letting her go. "So dedicated to all this after everything, chasing up every last lead, trying to solve it. Can you tell me…" she paused, looking a little bashful, a look Cecilia had never seen her show before and Cecilia smiled kindly.

"There are no promises," said Cecilia. "Dumbledore could be having me here and there is still the possibility that nothing may come out of it. That is why science is so respected by muggles, because it is objective. There will be just an answer, it might not be the new are looking for or wanting, though." This time it was Cecilia's turn to hug Tonks, who sighed like a child in her arms.

"We have to be prepared for that, but I'll damned well see to it that everything that can be investigated will be."

"Speak to you soon, Tonks," said Cecilia, as she picked up the bag again and turned to leave.

"Cecilia," said Tonks quietly, making her stop.

"Please don't do anything to put yourself in danger. I mean it. The power some wizards have…you could be gone in seconds. That would be too awful to think about, Cec, you're one of us, you know."

"See you soon, Tonks," she said, grinning as she waved goodbye to a disapparating Tonks before she entered the castle.

I know, she thought, stepping through into the teachers' quarters.

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"Mrs Frobisher," said Ron as she made her way back up the corridor. Cecilia turned round to look at the young wizard. His face was flushed red and he looked more than a little nervous as he sped up to address her.

"Ron," she exclaimed. "How are you? You shouldn't be here, you know."

It was funny; she hadn't wanted to leave home again but now, seeing one of her students made her feel a little let melancholic.

"Er, Mrs Frobisher," said Ron, a little uncertainly. "I, er, wanted to ask you: did you have a nice weekend away? Only – " he added quickly, "I wanted to ask you – "

"Yes?" she smiled encouragingly.

"Are you going to the Halloween dinner tonight? We have to bring partners, you see." Cecilia's smile remained.

"It'll be great to see you and Hermione there together," Cecilia shouldered her bag a little higher, hoping he wouldn't take too long. Despite the sleep, she was still exhausted.

"Hermione?" stammered Ron, looking down nervously. "Er, no. I wanted to ask you, Mrs Frobisher."

"What did you want to ask me?" she asked, still confused.

"Mrs Frobisher." Both Cecilia and Ron turned towards Snape, who gave a now even more red-faced Ron a stony glare.

"Glad to see you made it back safely," he added, still glaring at Ron. "Did you want something, Mr Weasley?"

Ron looked nervously between Snape and Cecilia.

"Er, n.n.n.no…well I was just wondering whether Mrs Frobisher was going to the feast tonight."

"Of course she is," snapped Snape, irritably. Cecilia turned her head sharply.

"I've just got back, Professor Snape," she said, hating herself for addressing him with such deference, but refusing to call him by his first name in front of a student.

"I don't think you'll be expecting me there when I have such important work to continue," she added, raising her eyebrows to convey her message.

"Do I need to remind you, Mrs Frobisher, this is the biggest event in the school calendar? All staff are expected to attend." He glanced across to Ron, who was attempting to slope off towards the first floor landing.

"That goes for you to, Mr Weasley," he added, making the young wizard stop in his exit attempt. "The Great Hall in half an hour."

Cecilia turned back to Snape, hysteria beginning to replace her anticipatory happiness of five minutes ago.

"You barely speak to me for a fortnight, don't even have the courtesy to ensure I have everything we need for the analysis, and you expect me to delay the work now I have the results for some dinner?" The words flowed hot and lively from her lips as she attempted to convey her indignation as civilly as her mind would allow. Without waiting for him to reply, she threw open her bedroom door and dropped her bag, unzipping it hastily and pulling out the precious books and papers before marched back out through the door. Snape, who had watched her do this with open-mouthed silence followed behind her as she made her way towards Dumbledore's office.

"Mrs Frobisher, wait," he said, as he strode after her. "I do not believe you understand."

"I understand perfectly," she said, turning her head left as she walked to where Snape had caught up with her and was walking, matching her pace. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be able to advise me," she added. Snape grasped her wrist, but she wrenched it away.

"Mrs Frobisher," he said again as they marched in unison along the main first floor corridor towards the base of the high tower. "Stop walking and listen," he added. Cecilia stopped; she'd not heard that tone in his voice before.

"I had Order business to attend to, as I explained before you left. You had everything you needed; Miss Tonks conformed this with me just before you entered the castle. We cannot talk of this here," he added, his incisive and direct intonation returning. "And as for you not attending the feast –" he stopped.

"What's this? A member of staff not wishing to join the rest of the school in the fun and jollility of this All Hallow's Eve feast?" Cecilia turned sharply, dropping everything over the floor."

"Professor!" she exclaimed, bending quickly to tidy up the papers. "I've just returned," she added, stating the obvious. "Professor McGonagall" she added, looking at the deputy headmistress dressed in a beautiful glimmering emerald outfit. "You look lovely." Minerva McGonagall smiled warmly at Cecilia, stooping to pick up and handing "Mysterious Mythology" to her, then glanced at Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, Mrs Frobisher is desperately keen to consider the results of her work tonight," clarified Snape, helping Cecilia up by the elbow. "I've informed her of her obligation as a member of staff to the feast." He glanced at Cecilia, before adding, "however if you believe it's in our interests that she continue, may I suggest that she is afforded a safer place than her bedroom to carry this out; bearing in mind the lack of security and subsequent removal of her property a fortnight ago?" Cecilia looked at him in astonishment: that certainly was unexpected. Snape had never defended her in front of anyone at Hogwarts before. Maybe he was being honest then when he said he had work of his own; maybe she was reading too much into the fact he had barely said anything to her since allowing her into his confidence.

Cecilia flashed a brief grateful smile in Snape's direction before looking towards Dumbledore herself, but then turned her head as Minerva stepped towards a small door on the right-hand side of the corridor.

"Maybe we could step into my office," she said, holding the door open. "Then we can discuss this in more confidence." She looked across to Cecilia, beckoning her to come in. Cecilia looked back at Dumbledore and Snape briefly before walking in. Both wizards followed her. Minerva closed the door behind Snape, and Dumbledore paced towards the crackling fire.

"I trust everything went according to plan? You managed to carry out the task you needed to and this has now furthered your research?" Cecilia looked around, and addressed all three wizards, gesturing towards her papers, which were still disorganised and thrown back together in her hands.

"Yes, Professor. Do you wish me to explain?" She was about to put the papers down on the small cherrywood table next to the fire, but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Not just at the moment, Cecilia," he said, " as I am expected at the feast in a little over twenty minutes. Did you feel the work was successful?"

"Absolutely," she beamed, smiling brightly at Snape, who nodded slightly in her direction. "Just the long road ahead of us now, we need to piece this together properly," she added.

"In that case, this is indeed a cause for celebration," nodded Dumbledore. "I leave the choice to you, Cecilia. You may continue this work tonight by all means, however I believe you would make more progress if you had a break, and started afresh with Severus tomorrow evening." Dumbledore looked at Snape, who looked over at Cecilia, and he smiled briefly again. Cecilia nodded.

"But I can't leave this in my room; it's not safe, and nor is Remus's book," she added, pulling out of the back of the file.

"May I make a suggestion, Cecilia?" Minerva stepped nearer to her, and smiled a little. "If you feel you can entrust these precious documents into my care, I will see to it that I return them to you whenever you wish." There was a pause. Cecilia wasn't sure what to say next: Minerva had spoken to her with such respect that it took her completely off guard.

"That would be acceptable," Cecilia said finally, feeling a little humble herself. "And yes, I'd love to attend the feast; I'm sure it'll be delightful. But –" she looked down at her clothes – she was still wearing her real clothes: jeans and a sweater and she knew her Emaness robes were in need of a clean.

"If you would like me to escort you to your room, Cecilia, I'm sure I could help you choose something suitable from the guest robes. And I can show you where I will be leaving your documents," she added, picking up the file from the table and handing it to her.

"Splendid," smiled Dumbledore, gliding across the room and opening Minerva's workroom door, holding it for them as Cecilia followed the older witch. They were right of course; she'd been up for nearly twenty four hours with only a light nap in the ministry quarters. There would be time enough tomorrow to continue. And they would make good progress if Snape was able to assist as she hoped.

As soon as they left, Dumbledore closed the door firmly, and strode back towards the fireplace, looking into its crackling flames. He said nothing for a good few minutes, before turning to Snape, looking at him calmly and firmly.

"I do not believe that anything that will transpire this evening will be in any way necessary for Mrs Frobisher to know. From what you have described Severus, the worst attack on muggle life will take place shortly after our feast ends and its scale will be such that our Order will be overwhelmed within the first hour. Many scores of muggles will die," Dumbledore continued, "despite the best efforts of us all."

"The Auld Magic, Professor. She is a member of the Order…" began Snape, taking a step forward, but Dumbledore held up his hand and turned to address him.

"And she is a muggle, Severus. This concerns her as a muggle and it will give her no peace to know muggles are going to suffer and die tonight." Dumbledore stroked his silvery beard and made for the door. Placing his hand on the back of one of the chairs, he stopped and looked back towards the hearth.

"No, she must not know of this; her task as a scientist must not be jeopardised. We do this for the greater good; the bait must be laid, the trap must be set. Voldermort must believe he is still the most powerful wizard in the world and prove it to himself through these evil deeds. And though we may reduce what we can and assist the innocent, what is done under the Auld Magic must come to pass.

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	16. So Far and Yet So Near

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"Go go, Gryffindor! Go go, Gryffindor! YEAH!" The cry rose from the gold and red stand, as did its occupants, attempting to drown out their opponents in the green and silver stand.

"Sly-ther-in! Sly-ther-in!" came the opposing chant; in turn trying to shout the loudest.

"You can't win!" Cecilia heard Flint, the captain of Slytherin say to Angelina. "For a start, Weasley?" He gestured towards Ron, sitting astride his broom. "He couldn't save a marshmallow from a campfire, let alone a quaffle!"

"That's all you know, Sniffy!" yelled Ron, annoyed; darting out of the way when Marcus Flint squared up to him.

Cecilia looked around the pitch, a sense of anticipation filling her as she saw the teams assemble ten feet from the hard, wintry ground. Tomorrow it would be the second day of December and, since the day she had returned from the Muggle world she had made frustratingly little progress.

"And look," said Minerva, whom she was sitting next to in the Gryffindor stand, pointing down to the grass where a long line of Slytherin first years snaked their way around the perimeter. "The teams get a choice of mascot to herald their team." Cecilia looked down to where the witch was pointing, although quidditch was the last thing on her mind.

The Halloween feast had truly been a marvellous celebration. Following Minerva's assistance with the robes and her insistence against Cecilia's objection to attending, she had experienced a marvellous evening. From demonstrations of awe-inspiring magic from the teachers and a selection of gifted seventh years, to traditional Hogwarts Halloween songs accompanied by a vast array of dishes and finished off with a story-telling by Hagrid, the evening was truly magical, both metaphorically and in reality. It was definitely what she needed after the effort of going home.

However the feast was the highlight of the last four weeks; as she worked Cecilia felt increasingly disheartened. It felt as if she had been looking at big pile of disordered jigsaw puzzle pieces. There was no box with the picture on and where some pieces had dovetailed superbly ragged ends were left where the information was either incomplete, vague or absent entirely.

It hadn't helped that she had had very little opportunity to concentrate entirely on the work; Cecilia felt that by cancelling lessons, which she would dearly loved to have done would have drawn attention to herself. Dumbledore had agreed with her that her work was now at a critical stage she should not risk it by raising the interest of the students.

But what was taking up more of her time was her work with Harry; he was increasingly keen on helping her understand wizards, more so since her trip back to the Muggle world that Cecilia ended up spending time with Harry discussing science than on the work she had planned to do.

"Now, the team who guesses the underside colour of the Golden Snitch's wings," said Professor McGonagall conversationally, is the team which gets the quaffle first. This gives them the advantage, you see, for they can play it to their seeker's advantage."

And then there was Severus. How many times in the past month had she attended pre-arranged appointments where he had left a note to say that he couldn't attend, or worse, not bothered?

Cecilia looked across to the Slytherin stand; its occupants standing and cheering as enthusiastically as the Gryffindors around her and Severus Snape sitting stiffly, arms folded.

It's not that he hadn't been working on his part of the work, however Cecilia just wished they could spend a significant amount of time together to discuss what material she had, and he could contribute, perhaps suggesting something she'd missed.

Cecilia had been delighted to hear that news, as she did not teach in any case in the morning and headed down to the library after breakfast to at last finish compiling the information from the DNA traces, which had been one area of success. Minerva had stopped her and told Cecilia that the autumn term semi-final was to be held that afternoon. When she mentioned she had yet to watch a match, Minerva persuaded her persuaded her to join them, taking Cecilia to sit with her, in the Gryffindor stand.

It was probably good to have a break and clear her increasingly dulling mind, especially when she realised she hadn't actually been outside Hogwarts for a month. The trees around the castle were bare now; their leaves shed, and the sky, a thick cloudy grey, hung above.

And apart from the teachers inside the castle whom she sat with at mealtimes, Cecilia had not been in contact with any other people, muggle or wizard, not even Tonks. Or anyone from Snape's house; menaces from Draco appeared to be suspended.

"We're going to do it!" yelled a small Gryffindor near to Cecilia, as the whole stand cheered in agreement. She looked across to Minerva, who had turned to speak to Hermione; the girl was asking her about transfiguration homework, and it was plain that while Professor McGonagall would ordinarily engage with Hermione about her work, that by showing her colours in the Gryffindor stand she was there to support her house.

"Sit down, Hermione!" said Michael Corner, irritably. "It's the semi-finals; can't you ask her afterwards?"

Begrudgingly, Hermione sat down on the bench behind them, and Cecilia sympathised; she would much rather be inside herself solving the mysteries of genetic inheritance of wizards than watching sport. Just then, Madam Hooch walked out onto the pitch.

"And here comes Madam Hooch, walking proudly onto the pitch," commented Lee Jordan, from the box between Slytherin and Hufflepuff stands. Cecilia looked as the witch, dressed in red and green to reflect the teams who were playing, took her place in between the two captains.

"Madam Hooch in fetching colours of red for Gryffindor and green for Slytherin – " around Cecilia boos at the mention of the rival team reverberated.

" – and now as the team mascots depart the pitch, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw representatives carry between them the game chest…Madam Hooch removing the snitch carefully from the lid…"

Cecilia watched as the witch spread out its wings, as the captains stated which colour they believed its wings would be.

Such a long time it had seemed since she had been home, though, she thought, as Slytherin, having won the guess with silver began to fly into position. She had gone through the feeling of exhilaration and discovery-hunger, had spent the rest of the week in November working herself to exhaustion on laying the foundations but it had soon become obvious that things were far more complicated than they seemed.

"A good dodge by Clews; that was a lucky move from the Slytherin beater…and here comes Owers now…"

"Ooh!" exclaimed the crowd as Owers, the Slytherin keeper was hit on the temple by the quaffle. He spiralled to the floor, only to get to his feet moments later and continue with the game.

"And it would seem that even without their keeper for a few minutes Slytherin are able to keep the goals away. Looks like Gryffindor have a lot to do if they want to win this match and keep their place in the finals."

"Come on!" yelled the Gryffindors around them. "Harry! Go Harry!" screamed the row at the front. Minerva turned to Cecilia.

"It would look like our seeker has spotted the golden snitch. Now, as long as Slytherin don't score any more goals and he catches it, we'll be all right for the match. It's on aggregate," she added, conspiratorially. Cecilia nodded automatically; following years of Tim supporting the Villa, she had learned to half-listen when people talked enthusiastically about sport.

And yet, there was something different about this game; it was universally played by both boys and girls. There seemed to be positions for all abilities and, from what she could see from Ron's game so far, you didn't need to be particularly skilled to be a passable player.

"I don't know why people get so worked up," said Hermione glumly next to Cecilia. "I mean, it's only a game after all. Where's the intellect in that?" Without realising it, Cecilia turned round on the bench to speak to Hermione.

"Much as I hate to admit it, Hermione, sometimes just the ability to work as a team and allow things to go to chance is satisfaction enough. Not everyone is academic." The girl turned to her, in astonishment.

"Where we get the fulfilment, in the thrill of the chase of understanding, others get from this," added Cecilia. She thought Hermione was about to argue, but she didn't; nodding in agreement.

"It just seems like…"

"A waste of an afternoon of study," finished Cecilia, smiling. "And to you and me it is. But what about Harry and Ron? Think about what are they like once they've finished a match, whether won or lost." Hermione paused.

"They talk about what they did, and what they should do to make sure it happens again. And if they lose, they try to work out what they should do to make it better." She smiled, the penny dropping.

"Cecilia," she began, "Mrs Frobisher, I mean," Hermione corrected herself as she caught one of Professor McGonagall's glances. "I know about your _Muggle-Studies-Work_," she intoned quietly. "If there's anything I can do to help, you know you only have to ask." Cecilia smiled.

"I'll bear it in mind," she replied, glancing back at the game, where the tables seemed to have turned in favour of Gryffindor. Around them, the students roared, willing their house to strive further to improve their position of a draw. Then a thought struck Cecilia; maybe Hermione could help.

"Er, could you come to the Muggle Studies classroom after tea tonight?" Hermione smiled, grateful to be asked.

"…and what a turnaround this is; Gryffindor whose play was shocking for the first half an hour of the match have now gone into the lead, thirty points head of Slytherin on seventy to forty…"

"All they need to do now is catch the snitch," said Minerva with a satisfied smile as the horn sounded for half time, "and we've made it to the finals for the term."

Five minutes later and the teams were back in the air. Cecilia saw some of the Gryffindor players bunch together as if herding one of the balls towards the hoop. Harry was on the opposite side, and she watched as he focused and then chased what appeared to be fresh air.

"…and it would appear that Harry has spotted the snitch, which until now in this match has eluded both seekers…" Lee Jordan with his dreadlocks shaking in excitement leaned out of the commentary box only to be dragged back in by Terry Boot who had noticed Draco Malfoy flying dangerously close.

Cecilia glanced over to the Slytherin stand again. Severus was watching Malfoy, his lip curled into a smirk as the wizard chased the ball, blocking Harry's attempts to get closer. He glanced over at Cecilia who, with many of the Gryffindors and Minerva herself, were sitting on the edge of their seats and caught her eye, giving her a look of derision.

Well you won't be celebrating tonight, thought Cecilia wryly as she looked at the last minute count down on the clock. It would be over soon, whether by the snitch being caught or the time running out. But Harry was going to catch it, wasn't he…?

As the last twenty seconds began to count down on the clock, Cecilia along with what sounded like the rest of Gryffindor house began to lose faith; Harry could not get past Draco to seize the snitch. As long as Malfoy blocked without even the need to catch the snitch, the game would go to Gryffindor but the place in the final would go to Slytherin.

"Come on!" yelled Cecilia with the crowd, getting to her feet. Harry was inches now from the snitch; one last push…one last push…

The Gryffindor stand erupted with jubilation. Harry had within seconds nipped past Malfoy and caught the snitch, spiralling down onto the pitch and landing against the Hufflepuff netting.

"We won!" she heard Hermione scream behind her. "They're in the final!" Cecilia turned to face the Gryffindor children, before glancing over to Slytherin. It would seem that old rivalries died hard. Snape was getting to his feet as the cheers echoed round the pitch.

"So, when's the final taking place?" asked Cecilia of an obviously delighted Minerva, getting to her feet and following the witch down the covered steps to the floor of the pitch. "I must say, I've never been one for sports, but that was thrilling."

"Next Friday; another half day," said Minerva, "I trust you'll join us? We're playing Hufflepuff, who have performed consistently this term, giving them a strong footing. I must say, Cecilia, I'm surprised you haven't been over to see the matches before this afternoon. Hogwarts does turn out some good players." Cecilia nodded.

"To be honest, Minerva," she said, spotting Snape crossing the field in the other direction, "I've not had the time. Getting to the bottom of…all of this has been my main priority. But I did enjoy that."

"So I saw," she said, nodding.

"And once I've got a firm foundation from which our research can be built perhaps I'll be able to heed the advice I wisely gave to Hermione," Cecilia added, sighing inwardly to herself. Minerva smiled in agreement.

They walked together for a couple of minutes in silence before Minerva stopped and turned to Cecilia.

"You have made progress so far in your research then, Cecilia?"

"I have," she replied, "but not as much as I'd like." Minerva said nothing but began to walk again, waiting for Cecilia to continue.

"I have so much information to make sense of," Cecilia went on. "I have both wizard information and that which I obtained when I visited home about both muggles and wizards, which I have made some sense of. But…" Cecilia stopped speaking and looked across to where Snape was striding purposefully, towards the West tower.

"I've names of wizards and muggles appearing in contrasting literature; I know something of a wizard who may or may not be relevant to all of this; I have names, dates and random pieces of information which match one another. But nothing to confirm whether they definitely link and are connected in some way or are just random coincidences. What I really need…"

"Yes?"

"I really need Severus! But I know he has to – " but Minerva interrupted her.

"You know the nature of Severus's work." It wasn't a question; she looked at Cecilia knowingly.

"Yes; he told me," confirmed Cecilia, nodding slowly. "He showed me the mark on his arm." She saw image of dark mark cut cruelly into his flesh in her minds' eye and shuddered. Minerva stopped sharply.

"I see," she said unevenly. "I see he has trusted you with this information, Cecilia." The look the witch was giving her Cecilia could not fathom.

"Why are you surprised?" Cecilia's thoughts slipped out before she could stop them. Minerva looked back at her.

"Forgive me my dear, but you misunderstand me. It is nothing to do with anything on your part, but his choice to reveal this to you; it's very unlike his character." Nor is his telling me about his past, thought Cecilia, about his childhood, I suppose.

"It is his choice to do so, after all," conceded Minerva, beginning to walk again, "but I have never seen Severus Snape work with anyone; even when he was at school he chose to work alone."

"I cannot do this work entirely alone, Minerva," said Cecilia diverting the subject a little. "His input is valuable; he works most objectively. It's what this work needs." It's what I need, she thought to herself as they neared the courtyard before the main entrance to the castle.

"Minerva," Cecilia said, smiling at the Professor, "Thank you for insisting I watch the quidditch match this afternoon; it's truly a great sport."

"You're welcome, Cecilia. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you at the feast. There's going to be much for Gryffindor to celebrate this evening." And with that Minerva McGonagall took her leave and departed, presumably to the staff quarters.

Cecilia turned and walked through the stream of students heading into the castle, to the other end of the hospital wing tower. This is where Snape had gone, she thought and sure enough she caught up with him two floors up on his way to see Poppy with Owers, Slytherin's seeker.

"Severus," she said, hurrying to catch him up. "May I have a word?" One or two of the Slytherin students with him suppressed a snigger as she approached.

"Can it wait? I have a student with concussion to see to following my House's unfortunate and untimely disqualification," he growled, stopping in his attempt to open the door.

"Perhaps later then? I'll be in – "

"The muggle studies classroom?" he interrupted, glaring at her. "Whatever matter of inconsequence it is, I am sure I can go out of my way to assist, Mrs Frobisher," he intoned, then turned and marched through the door, students in tow.

Cecilia smiled at the familiarity of their relationship before members of his house, turning back to look at the flow of students and staff to the main entrance. Carefully she picked her way in the ever increasing dusk of the early evening, following them into the courtyard and up onto the first floor where many of the students had begun to file into the Great Hall.

She turned and began to make her way towards her room; the least she could do was collect her work and go back to her classroom; there was at least a slight chance he would turn up.

88888888

This was hopeless, thought Cecilia, screwing up her thirteenth piece of A4 paper and throwing it in the direction of the fireplace and missing. She got to her feet and cursed her inability to miss such a big target as the ten-foot hearth on the right-hand wall of the classroom before pacing back to her pile of books and papers.

Having foregone tea, and the celebrations that Gryffindor would have enjoyed in the Great Hall three hours ago, she was beginning to regret it, as her rumbling stomach began to testify.

"Why aren't you making sense?" she asked the inanimate stationery before her. "Why is nothing tying up?"

As it stood, the research looked like this: the work she and Snape had done, along with that she and Harry had carried out made sense from a wizard standpoint. Hypothetically energy and magic married well, with few exceptions; energy was needed to make magic or, to put it another way, without energy magic couldn't happen. Having sustained Cecilia's many attempts to falsify the links, the she was eventually happy at the robustness of the claim.

At the same time there was the DNA. From the eleven samples she had in her possession she had concluded the following results: muggle and wizard genetics were linked by the Mendelian pattern of inheritance, with the wizard allele being dominant.

This was evident by a protein band which had appeared to be missing from the copy of the traces Cecilia had taken from the printer. For the first two weeks she had analysed the traces, it looked as if she had been going along the wrong path for there appeared to be no genetic similarities between wizards and wizard-family samples, except those that would be present between families of usual samples.

Then, coming to the end of the second week, Cecilia had referred to the original print-outs of each of the analyses and discovered the dark band which was common to all of these samples where wizards were known to exist in the family. Only the traces of her own and that of Arabella Figg did not contain it. And in association with that band, others existed which were also not present on her own or Arabella's, close to it, their position depending on whether the subject was pure-blood, half-blood or muggle-born.

Therefore where a child was born, either in a wizard household, or a muggle, where a parent carried a wizard allele, there was a one-in-two chance of their child having the allele, or if it had been two grandparents, one in four.

As the wizard allele was dominant, this meant that they had the potential of being a wizard. And if they had were not, they had a further one in two chance of carrying the allele, so their children may be wizards, even if they and the other parent, or their own parents were not magical in the slightest.

It was as Cecilia had concluded on the work she and Snape had carried out with the blood: you either were, or you weren't; and now she had genetic evidence. This was further reinforced by the absence of the band in her own sample, and that of Arabella; the fact it was not present did not mean that wizards had not been present in their past, only that the ability to do magic was not with them now.

Further to that the original traces she had taken in addition to those of her own from the lab were also free of the band, which presumably meant the people they had come from were like herself: muggles.

But; and here was the exciting part that Cecilia had as yet to divulge to anyone without first discussing with Snape; the evidence Cecilia had for this bombshell came from Harry's family, which brought up its own set of questions.

Where she had expected Petunia Dursley's pattern to be absent of the W-band, as Cecilia had dubbed it; it was present, bold and clear. A positive result, which meant that Petunia Dursley was genetically a wizard! However, why had she no wizard powers?

Which led Cecilia to the conclusion that… it would appear it depended on the _environment_ in which the child was born as to whether they were a wizard. This was a strong, but non-precise conclusion she had drawn, and not for the first time Cecilia had wished she had organised to stay at her former workplace in order to use their computers to analyse the traces. This would have cut down the work she was doing searching for likenesses and differences between the bands of the eleven samples she had from the four weeks it had taken her so far to a mere four hours.

Nevertheless she had concluded one thing: both premises, those of the wizard magic-energy relationship and the muggle science evidence were in themselves explanatory. There was now just the tiny matter of the variable which connected the two together. And whichever way Cecilia looked at it, trying to connect them both together left pieces of evidence from ether one side or the other that would not fit logically, invalidating the results. It was so frustrating!

Just then, there was a knock on the door which opened to reveal Harry and Ron. While Cecilia didn't at all mind the work she was doing with Harry, she nevertheless had intended this evening like so many others over the past month, for her and Snape, or at least her alone, to lay the foundations of the research, as she had described to Minerva.

"Lads," she said, sighing quietly and hoping her annoyance did not show on her face, "do come in." Cecilia gestured towards the flagstones between herself and the fireplace.

"Are you sure, Mrs Frobisher," said Harry uncertainly. "Only you look busy."

"Did we have a lesson this evening?" asked Cecilia, looking through the papers she had with her for something suitable. Damn, she exclaimed silently. She never usually forgot. Harry shook his head.

"Hermione mentioned that you had asked her to help you, but then realised she had to finish off next Wednesday's transfiguration homework tonight. She asked us to come and find you to apologise." Harry looked at her expectantly as Cecilia put down her work and looked at them.

"She said she was sorry," clarified Ron, turning beetroot red as he spoke.

"Well, I thank you both," said Cecilia, turning back to her work again. "It was kind of you to come on her behalf, especially after that exciting quidditch match this afternoon." Harry beamed at the compliment, however Ron stood there, frowning.

"And I expect you'll be celebrating with your house this evening," continued Cecilia, as both boys stood there still, not leaving.

"Aren't you going to return to your common room now?" Cecilia said at last as they continued to stand there.

"Well, we thought," began Ron, looking sideways at Harry.

"What Ron means is that, because Hermione couldn't help you, maybe we could? I mean," Harry looked at the pile of papers on the desk next to Cecilia. "You've taught me a lot of science, and well, this is about me. And if you do need help, I just want to say that as it is for me, I'll help anyway I can. Like I said before," he added, just in case his crystal clear explanation just before hadn't been plain enough.

"That's very kind of you lads," began Cecilia, "but – " she stopped, and glanced at them both. Never before had Harry offered to help her with the work. He had co-operated, often begrudgingly, and had done everything she had asked in their lessons. But this was different; he was offering to help in preference to returning to the Gryffindor common room and celebrate their glorious quidditch victory. How could she refuse?

"There are a few things I could do with your help with," said Cecilia finally; trying to determine quickly exactly what they could assist her with. Then it occurred to her: she had spent so much time on the DNA traces she had yet to look at the information she had collected about the scientists mentioned in conjunction with Raymond Lully from the website pages she had printed out. Her heart began to beat because at last she had the help she needed and would be able to reduce the information down to a few pages of information that was relevant.

"Before I start, I'm going to have to tell you what I did almost a month ago." She sat down on the bench near her work, and gestured for the two young wizards to do the same. "What I'm about to tell you must remain in this room for it is confidential information connected to the Order." Both boys nodded mutely, waiting for her to continue.

"Just before Halloween, I left Hogwarts and went back home for a day to visit my old place of work. This workplace is a scientific laboratory where I was able to analyse hair samples of wizards and witches in order to look for a biological link or connection between wizards and muggles." Cecilia glanced knowingly at Harry, who nodded in agreement. Ron looked at him confused, but Harry nudged him, and he smiled in comprehension.

"While I have looked at the work from here, I also obtained information related to a wizard who seems to be connected to science. However the amount of information I have is too much for me to go through alone. Severus – I mean Professor Snape – " Cecilia paused noticing the look on Ron's face as she addressed her colleague by his first name.

"Professor Snape has been unavoidably detained with other Order work," she clarified quickly, "so as yet, I have not had a chance to go through it. Your offer of work has come in handy. I wish you to read through the information I have," she placed the pile of paper on the desk before them, "and find specific scientists and other information out of it."

"Er," said Harry, looking at the papers. "You can't mean for us to do this all tonight?"

"Scientists?" said Ron, scanning the papers himself. Cecilia sighed. Maybe she had been assuming too much; she knew Hermione would have relished the challenge, and now she realised the Harry and Ron had come to see her to help her for a couple of hours.

"No," said Cecilia, uncertainly. "I was going to try to work it into a lesson somehow, so all my students were doing some of the research, but I realised this was probably too dangerous with the sensitivity of the work. It would probably take – "

"We could do it for homework," said Ron, enthusiastically, looking between her and the pages. "You could set us homework to research scientists and ours could be to do this; then we'd be helping you, but also doing homework we liked as well." Harry looked at him in amazement.

"Er, yeah," he agreed, a little uncertainly with his friend.

"Well," said Cecilia, as taken aback as Harry at Ron's sudden enthusiasm for extra work. "I could say, for example, that if you did this work I could for get to set more Muggle Studies homework for the rest of the year?" Both Harry and Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"Ron," she turned to the young wizard who stood almost straight to attention when she said his name.

"Have you still got your encyclopaedia of Muggle scientists?" Ron nodded, looking almost incredulous, as if she had accused him of treachery.

"Of course, Mrs Frobisher," he replied reproachfully.

"What I'd like you to do is this: the names of these people that I am writing down," Cecilia said, picking up a blank sheet of paper and a pen, "are contained in these pages. When you find the names, write down the title of the article on which you found it, for example, "encyclopaedia scientifica", and the sentence where they are mentioned. I'd like it exactly, please, so you could put it in speech marks so I can tell." Both boys nodded, showing they understood what to do so far.

"If there are other people or important information mentioned, record that too, and look them up, using your encyclopaedia, Ron," she stopped, and crossed over to her bookshelf and retrieving her own copy of the same book, handing it to Harry, "here's my other copy, Harry," she clarified. "It's important, so I can see if these people have any other people in common. Any questions?" Cecilia looked between Harry and Ron, who exchanged glances.

"Mrs, Frobisher, would you have been giving this work to Hermione to do, if she had been here instead of us?"

"Yes," said Cecilia, "and I know she would probably do as good a job as you two gentlemen," she added, full of praise. Ron looked downcast.

"And I would probably have to redo half of it, because where Hermione would have done the work, she would have also analysed it for me as well, and unfortunately as she would not be in full possession of the facts; many of them, as I said are confidential so she would not have done a very good job of it and I would have to spend more time undoing and redoing it. This is why I know when _you_ have obtained the information," Cecilia looked at the two lads, confidently, "it will be perfect." She smiled as Ron and Harry grinned at one another.

"Just one more question," said Harry, and Cecilia nodded.

"Do you mind if we start now, Mrs Frobisher?"

88888888

"Have you spoken to Cecilia since you and Tonks left her at Hogwarts?" Sirius Black paced around his father's study, drinking elf-made tea and glancing once or twice into the huge fireplace that dominated the room.

He looked at his friend, sipping the tea Kreacher had made for them a quarter of an hour ago. Remus shook his head, taking a biscuit from the cake stand and dipping it into the lukewarm beverage.

"No," he replied, in between bites of biscuit. "I do beg your pardon, Sirius," he added, resting the Jammie Dodger on the saucer before placing it on the table before them. He looked back at Sirius, who seemed to be set on making a hole in his father's rug.

"It doesn't look like she's spoken to anyone from the Order, or from home, not according to Minerva, by the sounds of it, just shut herself away and carried on with her work." Sirius paced back for the fifth time, looking into the fireplace momentarily, before approaching the shelves and scanning the titles.

"It's probably for the best, considering the massacre of her people on Halloween; it is surprising though that she isn't aware of it; by reading it in the prophet, for example." Sirius retrieved the volume he was looking for, and opened it up, blowing the dust from the pages that he exposed

"Probably for the best?!" Remus exclaimed in alarm. "That amount of work is not good for one person to be doing, not for that length of time. She's working eighteen-hour days including teaching Muggle Studies and giving Harry science lessons of an evening."

"So you have spoken to her," said Sirius triumphantly, looking down the entry on the fiftieth page of the book, and tracing the line back to the eighteenth century.

"I spoke to Severus," said Remus slowly. Sirius turned sharply.

"Snivellus?! Why Moony? What could he possibly have told you that you needed to know from him?"

"I needed to find out if she had the information she needed, that was all," said Remus, sitting back down and sighing deeply. "And I didn't want her to find out that I was concerned," he added, looking at the biscuit as it oozed jam onto the Royal Worcester saucer.

"And..?"

"And as she is working as hard as she can it looks like it. In any case, Dumbledore has seen fit for the Daily Prophet to be absent from the post of the Hogwarts students, and that letters containing concerns from worried parents have become somewhat delayed. He doesn't want the students to be worried, or certain others to feed information back to their parents." Sirius dipped his head in

"How's my cousin doing? And the ministry for that matter?"

"Tonks is still snowed under. They are doing their best to subdue the publicity surrounding the deaths of so many muggles both in our world and theirs. I think many of us had forgotten how devastating the effects of auld magic could be." Sirius snorted.

"Come on, Padfoot, you know what it was like out there on Halloween –" Remus stopped abruptly, realising that actually Sirius didn't because he hadn't been with them that night on account of him still being wanted by the Ministry.

"I'm sorry, old friend," Remus said, watching Sirius find another page in another book. He glanced at Remus.

"Well, I got the message," said Sirius bitterly, replacing the book and picking up another, "do you know how frustrating it is sitting here in this house when the Order are out there saving the world, only to be able to offer tea-making facilities?"

"I said I was sorry," said Remus. "And you shouldn't dismiss your household skills, Padfoot: the refreshments you provided were of the utmost quality. I doubt we would have made it through the night otherwise – "

"Oh yes, very glorious," added Sirius, sitting in his father's wing-backed chair and putting his feet on the coffee table. "Waiting here and having to listen to your ancestors argue at you that what Voldermort is doing is perfectly acceptable to maintain a pureblood world…" he looked across at his friend who was returning the glance sympathetically, "…when you can't be there to fight yourself?"

Remus said nothing, but glanced down at the book Sirius had selected from the library shelf. It was old, looking like it hadn't seen the light of day or depth of night in fifty years. What Dumbledore would have use for it was beyond him, and probably beyond Sirius and yet – Albus knew what he was doing. He picked up his tea again and looking at the insipid contents, thanking Merlin gratefully that someone did.

They sat in silence for a time, drinking tea and thinking their own thoughts. At length Sirius turned to Remus.

"Do you think she has got everything she needs? I mean, perhaps the samples she took to the laboratory weren't enough? Could that be delaying her?"

"I believe they were; she seemed satisfied at the time, and I don't think she would have attended if she couldn't do a reasonable job." There was the matter of Lily Potter, thought Remus to himself, but nothing of any good would come from telling Sirius that.

"Then once Mrs Frobisher manages to do that, and she has passed the information onto Snivellus for the potion, she can be out of or lives for good." Sirius got to his feet, and picked up the teapot. He waved his wand over the cups and fresh ones appeared in place of those containing half-finished tea.

"Surely you don't mean that?" Remus turned to his friend sharply. "I mean – "

"Not her Moony, I mean the work; the sooner the work is over and Harry can have the potion, it'll be over." Sirius sat back in his chair and picked up the book from the coffee table.

"It'll be just beginning for Harry," said Remus, shaking his head, "and by the sounds of it there's a while to go yet when Severus isn't assisting her as he should."

"He's not assisting her, why ever not? I thought that was the whole reason she was at Hogwarts was because he could help her there. She could have stayed here and got to the same position, then. And then she would be out of there away from – "

" – Harry," finished Remus sharply.

"I wasn't going to say that," said Sirius irritably. "Danger, I was going to say."

Really thought Remus, doubtfully. When it comes to Cecilia and her part in all of this, you've already had enough benefits of the doubt.

"But yes," admitted Sirius to his friend, "she would be out of Harry's way; I can't deny it would put my mind at rest. And I wish you'd stop finishing my sentences, Moony," he added.

"Sorry," said Remus, trying to stifle a yawn, "I'm just getting so tired at the moment," he added wearily. His time of the month was nearly on him again and now the nights were drawing in. And standing around in the nude in the Forbidden Forest waiting with his friend for the moon to reveal itself transform him into his other self was not particularly appetising.

"I expect when she has something, Dumbledore will tell the order," said Sirius, looking sympathetically at his friend. "Then at least she can return back to her world." He flicked open the book again and looked at the list of dates down the right-hand side of the page.

"Then that will be a sad day, thought Remus dully, considering the strong yet vulnerable woman whom he comforted on the day she went to collect information for a war that isn't hers. When she lay in bed recovering from injuries she shouldn't have sustained. When he watched her plump red lips move as…he stopped, focusing his thoughts silently as he watched his friend pace back and forth before the fireplace.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Weasley opened it.

"Molly," said Sirius warmly. "What can we do for you?" He smiled, and she returned it, looking between the two wizards.

"The Order's all here now, Sirius," she said, glancing at the book. "You've found it, then?"

"Yep," said Sirius brightly. "One of them at least. "The Mythe of the Aulde Magicke and its Use, Vol. 3", by Felix Felixson. It's amazing to think that my family's library would actually come in handy for something other than firelighters." He handed the book to Molly and glanced at Remus.

"Tell Dumbledore I've only been able to find this one out of the set so far. We'll be right with you," he added and Remus sighed like a deflating balloon as Molly closed the study door.

"One meeting every three days now; perhaps someone should tell her." Remus got to his feet slowly.

"Would it help her to know?"

"Probably not," conceded Remus, walking slowly towards the study door.

"Don't worry about your time, Moony; I'll be there, old thing," Sirius patted Remus on the back and reopening the study door by the griffin's foot knob, "and we can reminisce…"

"About anything in particular?" Remus pondered, stepping onto the landing. The sound of forty wizards talking to one another emanated up the stairs.

"What about…absent friends?" Sirius led the way down the stairs from the first floor of Grimmauld Place towards the living room.

"Absent friends," agreed Remus, following him down. Especially those of the non-wizardly, scientific persuasion.

88888888

The weekend passed slowly for Cecilia. With the lightness of load of the scientist information off her plate, she found she had breathing space to concentrate on finding the link between muggle science and the wizard magic together. It was now Sunday morning and she was heading out of the castle to the winter sun that was illuminating the brooding Northumbrian mountains.

Following Cecilia's delegation of the scientist research to Ron and Harry they had remained till nearly nine o'clock in the Muggle Studies classroom looking through the work together while Cecilia continued to work. She had restarted the interconnections between them, discarding her theories again and starting from the beginning. It was demoralising to say the least, but what choice did she have?

"Are you sure there's no science we can help you with, Mrs Frobisher?" Harry had asked, seemingly less excited about the research after a couple of hours. Cecilia had shaken her head, arranging to meet Harry on Wednesday of the coming week to teach him more science and answer any questions he had about the work she had done with his hair sample which seemed to perk up the lad.

She had been surprised that Ron had not wanted to join Harry, and had rebuked his friend's wishes to carry out science, saying that finding out about scientists was far more exciting, and not for the first time Cecilia had considered that Mr Weasley's anorakish interest in muggle engineering and technology did manifest itself in his youngest son from time to time.

And it was with relief when Harry had persuaded Ron that they had to leave, to sleep well for quidditch trials the next day, both promising they would continue it another time. Cecilia smiled at their enthusiasm and had allowed the webpages to be taken from the classroom, hoping she wouldn't regret it as they were the only copies she had.

They had retuned on the Saturday, which meant there had been much chatting amongst them; not only about scientists but also Hermione, quidditch, potions…any number of things which, while acceptable in themselves, had meant that Cecilia, had not been able to concentrate for a sustained period of time. When she had checked how much they had read through amounted to four pages between them.

After about three hours of it, Cecilia had shooed them back to their common room, explaining she was expected by Snape, suggesting that they should come back once they had finished. They had wandered back off in the direction of the Gryffindor common room, and Cecilia wondered whether through the task, albeit carried out enthusiastically, she was asking too much of them.

That afternoon she had taken a stroll around the grounds of Hogwarts without her work before returning to her room with the information, trying to switch off, but threads of information kept penetrating her mind relentlessly and she'd returned to the castle and to her room for a bath and a sleep.

Next morning Cecilia's mind was still racing and the need to clear her head of the information that she had crammed in there pushed her to leave the castle just as dawn was breaking.

She headed out of the castle grounds just as the castle clock rang out eight chimes, and turned out through the side gate outside the school.

Down Cecilia went, out onto the scarp slope to the east of the castle, heading towards the Black Lake. This is what she needed, she thought as she headed towards the body of water. A walk had always done her good when she was facing a particular troublesome part of the school year, such as assessments, planning, or examinations.

It was so quiet out here, Cecilia thought, as she reached the gravel-lined path that outlined the perimeter of the lake. The wind whispered while she walked, as if carrying secrets told to it in strict confidence, teasingly flighty in its wake, as if the knowledge to the whole world just out of reach.

How beautiful this time of day was, she thought as she crunched along the path. Crisp, clean air and the smell of the wilderness, just beyond the civilisation that was Hogwarts, where life ungoverned by the laws laid down by muggles and wizards existed.

Many a time Cecilia had suggested in fancy to Tim that where she would like to live was somewhere like this; miles from anywhere in a cottage away from the bustle of life. A little country school where she could teach nature and science around them to local children. And the significance of what she taught to them, which would mean so much because their future lives would depend so much on the landscape when they were older.

Just a fancy, it always was she reflected, as the sun glinted off the ripples made by fish within the lake, dissipating slowly and sporadically across the surface.

To the left of her she could see Hogwarts, outlined in an early morning haze of dew which made it seem as if it were covered in cling film. The tops of the towers were indeed whipped by cirrostratus, making it look as if they were coated in icing sugar.

Cecilia smiled to herself and looked ahead, considering how calm the environs were; so wildly beautiful on this winter morning; a different beautiful to the summer when the wild flowers littered the grounds, and different again from the autumn when she walked out of the castle on her birthday and marvelled at the trees, ablaze with leaves.

Just as she considered the wondrous grounds Cecilia's eye followed the line of the landscape down in front of her. She shivered as she considered the Forbidden Forest before her, looking forbidding even in the daylight as she approached. Cecilia stopped walking, recalling the last time she had tried to venture into it; the meeting of Death Eaters whom she had heard, all those months ago.

Perhaps it was time to return to work, Cecilia thought, rubbing her left forearm unconsciously as she headed up the steps carved into the turf. Wind whipped behind her as she climbed, up them and as she went Cecilia held onto the step in front of her due to the steepness and it crossed her mind that she probably should have turned and gone back the way she came.

"Up yer come," she heard a loud Wiltshire accent say above her, and at the same time Hagrid gripped her wrist and helped her up the last step.

"Thanks," said Cecilia, brushing off the soil from her jeans and getting to her feet. She looked back at the landscape; much different from this vantage point: now the Black Lake stretched out between the granite escarpments and out, many miles to the North Sea.

"Beautiful, 'aint it?" said Hagrid, following her gaze. "'s one thing I'd always miss if I were ever to leave Hogwarts."

"That's not going to happen, is it?" asked Cecilia, following the giant towards his hut. He slowed his pace when he realised she couldn't keep up.

"No," he said, looking ahead, "well, not that likely. Depends how the war is goin'. Sometimes Dumbledore asks me to do things for him, things he only trusts to me." Cecilia nodded, showing she was listening.

"But 'e 'asn't mentioned anything like that since that time you went tearing out o' the castle to the Forbidden Forest. 'Ere," he added, "You weren't going to do that again today, was you? Only you was on the path." Hagrid continued to walk to his hut where Cecilia could see a fire burning in the hearth.

"No," said Cecilia, "just a breath of fresh air." So Dumbledore sent him that night, did he?

"Well, you can't get much fresher'n out 'ere. Hogwarts was built in just the right place, all them hundreds of years ago. Fresh air, and open space." Hagrid placed his hand on the ring-latch of the door of his hut before inhaling the air and surveying the landscape again.

"Thought I'd not seen you about much, Mrs Frobisher," said Hagrid as he held open the door for Cecilia. "Apart from in the Great Hall, that is. How are you findin' life?"

"Frustrating, Hagrid," said Cecilia honestly, sitting on Fang's chair once Hagrid had scooped away the blankets and gestured to her to take a seat. "I've got the information I need to make all the right connections, to do as Dumbledore asked me, but nothing makes sense. I can't quite get the link." She sighed, and looked apologetically to Hagrid.

"Sorry; I didn't mean to bore you. This walk was supposed to clear my mind."

"You carry on, Mrs Frobisher; looks like you have a lot of thinkin' to do. And I do think you're wise to let Harry and Ron help you; they're right keen on it." Cecilia looked at him in astonishment as Hagrid approached his fireplace and took the kettle from the meathook that hung in over the glowing embers.

"They came down 'ere last night, talking on about the scientists in that book o' Ron's. About the discoveries they made, and so on."

"And even now, with one less thing to have to do, I still can't make the connection! It's so frustrating. Everything I have on one side works when I think of it together. And on the other, that works too. But when I try to join them together, I just have this…jumbled mess, like knitting wool!" Cecilia sat back in the chair, her feet six inches from the ground and thrust her hands palm downwards into her jeans.

"Do you know," said Hagrid slowly, "that Harry said he thought you were the best muggle studies teacher they'd ever had? And that's something coming from him; not that academic is Harry. You know, he said that at first he thought you were just going to be patronising, and treat him like everyone else who met him, like a glass ornament."

And I did, thought Cecilia, at the beginning, when I had to understand wizards, and Voldermort and that some things weren't the same as in the muggle world. She looked at Hagrid in anticipation.

"Well, I think it comes from the science. Harry seems to like science for some reason. Don't understand a thing about it myself," he added, "but he's taken with it. And you let him be involved with it, not tell him it's too dangerous. I don't think he's had that much in his life, whether with the Dursleys or here."

"To be honest, Harry's excellent at science. He understands it, but he has such a lack of faith in his own abilities, too often he gives up. I think he just needs some encouragement. If he'd stayed in the muggle world, he would have made a good scientist. He's a good thinker," finished Cecilia.

Which is why I didn't mind him and Ron helping; I don't think I would have let it out of my hands if it had just been Ron. She looked up and realised that Hagrid was staring at her; teapot containing fresh tea in hand.

"I would say that's a fair assessment of our Harry. He don't have much confidence. But he do listen to what's in here." Hagrid smiled lovingly at the absent Harry as he placed his hand over his huge, tank-top covered chest. "Very much like his parents in that respect; Lily was like that; her confidence was off. And James, well: he would listen to his heart, even when it were tellin' him to do somethin' that was breakin' the rules."

Cecilia took the tea he was proffering silently. Alone in his hut, just with the ticking of the clock, and Hagrid's slow breathing, she felt calmer; the outside influences of noise, lessons, children, Dobby, green flames in grates and so on which caused her so often to delay her train of thought, entirely absent.

"Do you want to tell me? Perhaps I can help?" Cecilia sipped at her tea, stopping in mid-swallow before deciding it was too rude to spit it back out. He caught the look on her face.

"No, well, I'm probably not the right person to talk to, you're thinking," he said, sitting back down. "But you know you can always talk to me." Cecilia swallowed the rest of the tea and smiled.

"Do you think I could return here this week? When I've finished classes? I mean, would you mind? Its just so peaceful here; I know I'll be able to get it when I have a chance to concentrate."

"Of course, Mrs Frobisher, come any time you like. I told yer that before."

"The links I have so far," she pressed, determined to let Hagrid know that wasn't what she was thinking, "that spells in the wizard world depend on energy. You have energy that make the spells happen. Professor Snape and I have done a lot of work on that already and come up with patterns and relationships for different types of spells. And there seems to be a connection with blood, like you said before, between different families. Well," she continued, putting her cup and saucer down and stroking Fang, who had somehow mysteriously appeared by her, "I managed to test it out scientifically."

Hagrid stared at her, and nodded towards Fang. "I think he's impressed," he said, pouring himself another cup of tea. "I'm doing toasted crumpets for breakfast," he added, gesturing to the packet half-open on the table. "There's not much mould on them that won't scrape off. So, what did you find out ski-yen-tifically?" he added, prompting her to continue.

"That the links to different types of blood, as wizards call them, pure blood, half blood, muggle born, squib, and so on, all match the inheritance patterns muggles expect in families too. And so I tested them, and the pattern linked." Cecilia shuffled in her chair, and swallowed.

"But now there are complications. The work that Harry and Ron are doing for me will be useful because it links the scientists in the muggle world to the information that Madam Pomfrey showed me with Pompops and his work in hospital. But what links science to magic?" She looked at Hagrid, expecting him to have switched off, having allowed her to continue for her own sake.

"Have you thought that there is no link? Perhaps wizards and muggles are truly different?"

"No," said Cecilia determinedly. "I cannot believe that, not from the evidence we have. There is a genetic link we have shown in science through wizards which is backed up by your own stories and folklore about families. Spells have patterns, especially the non-healthy terminal patterns on muggles. I'm just missing something, and I wonder whether it is something fundamental, which is hidden and requires searching for, or peripheral which I just haven't found yet. And the work Harry and Ron are doing is about the life of a wizard who has a strong connection to science. Raymond Lully." She noticed Hagrid's features fix when she mentioned the name.

"What?" she said, catching his eye. "Do you know him, Hagrid?"

"Er, well," said Hagrid, looking from right to left and placing down the knife he was using to de-mould the crumpets. "Only in passing, like. I remember Binns speak of him during Harry's history lesson once when I was learnin' to be a teacher meself. I remembered the name 'cos it sounded fo'r'n. And Binns said he died in the same year as the Goblin Riots…"

"…1956…"

"…in ..1956, yes," he said, looking at her quickly. "And I said to meself, I remember them riots, and I remember the name of Raymond Lully. I floo'd down to London, to Diagonalley; I was young at the time, an' all, and it was a time when I'd left school, but 'ad no job. 'Cos I was big, I thought it would be a laugh, like, and I wouldn't get 'urt. And we 'eard the goblins from the bank had closed the doors; they were in the street protestin' about bein' slaves to wizards, and this man by the name of Voldermort was goin' to free 'em, so they wouldn't be slaves no more." Hagrid picked up his tea again and sipped. Cecilia noticed his hand was shaking.

"'course we didn't recognise the name then; it was just a strange-soundin' name said by these goblins. People from the Ministry came in to see 'em, and when they couldn't reason with 'em, the goblins turned on the shops in Diagonalley, smashin' windows, lootin' all sorts, even attackin' some of the wizards inside. It was chaos, and the ministry were not prepared for it. Oh they tried, o' course, but they couldn't get the goblins to listen, and some o' them were killed. I was standin' next to one of them; by that time I'd regretted ever goin' down, and one of the goblins killed a wizard using Avada Kedavra." He shuddered and Cecilia smiled reassuringly, waiting for him to continue.

"That was at a time when they were just spells; they weren't outlawed as they are today. The spell just missed me and got the other fellow. I turned, and I heard one goblin say to the other one that the man they had killed wasn't Raymond Lully after all. The other one told 'im that it wouldn't matter, 'e would be got by the end of the day. And I remember, clear as day, thinking two things Mrs Frobisher. First, that if I'd been standin' just two feet to my left, I would've been the wizard they had mistaken from Raymond Lully. And second, why when the goblins were rioting 'gainst their enslavery, were they looking for this wizard to kill him?"

Cecilia looked at Hagrid carefully. The huge man now seemed to have shrunk to almost half his height as he recalled this terrifying incident in his past. He'd paled and began to look nervous, such was the impact of the events he was describing, on his life when they'd occurred.

She got to her feet slowly and crossed the floor to where he was standing, hands pressed flat against the table with white knuckles through the pressure of supporting his body. Carefully she rubbed what bit of his arm she could reach. Hagrid looked down at her.

"Don't mind me," he said, looking down at her, "nothing for you to worry about. All I were tryin' to say was it was odd that Binns mentioned Raymond Lully had died in that year, and referred to the Goblin Riots when goblins in those riots were looking to kill 'im." Yes, thought Cecilia. Strange indeed.

"And stranger still Hagrid, when a Raymond Lully seemed to be present with some famous muggle scientists when big discoveries were going on." He looked down at her, and frowned.

"So 'e's in your world too," he mused, "and wrapped up in this. Well, in that case, Mrs Frobisher, I think that the work you're doin' is important, 'cos that amount of coincidence is just too much. And I reckon I was wrong to think that they're not related. So," he said, standing full height again and filling his hut, "why don't you collect your work this morning and come back down here? I'll see to it that you're not disturbed."

88888888

"And what's your project going to be on, Neville?" Cecilia smiled with her mouth to her fourth class that week. It was Thursday and she had decided on Monday, when she hadn't prepared anything substantial to teach to give her students a choice of a project.

Initially she was going to choose the project for them, but when the second-years obsession, which had clearly been developing out of sight for the past couple of months, namely football, Cecilia relented and allowed her students free choice. Her only criteria was that the project must include both the muggle and wizard point of view but other than that she allowed the lessons to be freer than usual, with students either visiting the library or remaining in the classroom, collecting information.

"Er," said Neville, "I thought," he began, looking quickly at Ron.

"Haven't you decided?" Cecilia prompted, trying not to sound as if she was rushing him, and trying too not to think about her research.

"I have," said Neville, "but I wasn't sure if it would be OK – "

"Neville wants to research you, Mrs Frobisher," laughed Hermione. Neville shot her a look, then looked down, turning red.

"I'm sure you mean a squib at Hogwarts," clarified Cecilia quickly. She looked at Neville, who nodded.

"Right," said Cecilia, as the half-past three chime rung out from the clock tower. "Now you've chosen your projects, you've the rest of the lesson, and until the end of term to complete them. Are there any questions?" She looked around at the fifth-formers as they looked at one another, eager (or not so eager looking at Seamus Finnigan) to get on with it. "Yes, Hermione?"

"Is there a word count?" Ron and Harry looked at her, before looking at one another.

"No," said Cecilia, "but it must be at least two thousand words. Yes, Parvarti?"

"Can we use primary evidence? Quotes? As long as it's objective, like you said." Cecilia nodded. And without further ado, the class broke up informally and began to work, sitting back to read through their preliminary work, collecting books from the generic muggle studies collection or discussing with their friends what they intended to include.

Inspired, thought Cecilia as she watched them, sitting at the front of the class, updating her markbook with information that she had neglected for almost three weeks. Why hadn't she thought of this before?

Soon, the half-hour of her last lesson that week passed swiftly and, with one or two final questions on the way out.

As the last student departed, Cecilia put her feet on the desk, and closed her eyes. Thank heaven she had nothing to do tomorrow, except for attend the quidditch final; there were no lessons in the morning, and she intended to visit Hagrid to work quietly…

…and she jumped a mile when she heard Harry say to Ron, "Shall we come back later?"

"Oh!" Cecilia said, waking up with a start. "Harry. What can I do for you?"

"Well, we just wanted to ask, the work we're doing for you, does that count towards our project?" Cecilia got to her feet and stretched her legs, realising it was dark, and the fire in the grate had dimmed.

"Er, yes," she replied uncertainly. "I thought I'd said that?"

"Yes," said Harry, "But we were just checking. We've done some of it," he added, winking conspiratorially. Cecilia looked at him, not following what he was saying. Then she realised Hermione was waiting impatiently outside.

"Oh," she said, smiling. "Yes. Oh there was something I was meaning to ask you, Harry," she added, as both young wizards turned to leave. "Why did you miss Wednesday?" He looked at her in surprise.

"Well, you said you were busy, Mrs Frobisher, don't you remember?" Harry looked back at her in earnest, looking back at Ron for confirmation.

"You did. We saw you as you left the classroom. About eight o'clock."

Cecilia frowned. What was going on? She had neglected to visit Hagrid that evening, and had waited for Harry all evening. It wasn't as if she'd left either. She smiled again at them and nodded.

"OK, well perhaps you could come on Saturday? Lunchtime? I'd like to see how far you've got with your project," she finished quickly, realising Hermione had pushed open the door to usher them out of the classroom quickly.

"What was that all about?" said Hermione as Harry and Ron hurried to catch up with her as she paced quickly down the hall towards the library. "I thought you were doing scientists."

"We are," said Harry, looking at Ron. "We were just asking for an extension; you know, because of the quidditch final tomorrow. And making sure she was coming," he added.

"An extension? For one day? I don't know why you're worrying her when she's that tired she forgot she told you she'd cancelled your lesson on Wednesday. Next you'll be telling me you asked her to the quidditch match tomorrow, too," she added, looking between two guilty faces.

"Well, she enjoyed it last time," said Ron, defensively as Hermione stopped in the act of turning the handle of the library door. She rolled her eyes.

"Hm, honestly!" she said chidingly and left Harry and Ron to look at each other with the unspoken question hanging between them as she stalked away.

88888888

Cecilia had made a decision when she had woken up on Friday morning. She dressed quickly and knocked on Snape's door before dawn. He had been surprised and consequently annoyed, but she had told him simply that they needed to go through the work together for her to make headway. She had felt nervous at her own firmness, but happy that she had stuck to the decision she had come to the previous night.

And surprisingly, Snape had agreed to meet her in the muggle studies classroom that afternoon to discuss it, stating pointedly that it was more important than a quidditch match.

Cecilia had nodded and returned to the classroom, thanking herself for not mentioning Harry and Ron's involvement, as she had almost done as she didn't want it to be an excuse for him not to appear today.

And if he doesn't come, she said, sitting with her legs up on her desk and continuing to scribble something down, then I'll have to appeal to Dumbledore or I'll never get anywhere.

It seemed that her assertive start to the day was beginning to pay off. When the door opened and closed five hours' later Cecilia was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice Dobby appear before her.

"Lady didn't come for breakfast or lunch," he said in painful tones, as if Cecilia had offended him personally by not putting in an appearance. "Dobby is worried about Lady." She looked up as the house-elf, wearing dungarees and a polo-neck jumper placed a plate of sandwiches before her and tugged with all his might at the paper she had in her hand.

"Dobby!" she exclaimed when he'd finally wrestled it from her. Then she saw his face, and patted the bench next to her where she sat in front of the fire, inviting Dobby to join her. When he didn't respond, she held out a sandwich, and automatically he was sitting next to her.

Getting better, thought Cecilia as he tucked into one half of the sandwich, he used to be far more subservient, but I suppose he meant it when he declared me, as a muggle, to be as low as himself.

"There," she said, before taking a bite of the cheese and pickle sandwich he had made for her. "It's delicious," she added, chewing it carefully.

"Dobby has to take care of Lady," said Dobby, as if instructing a child. "One day, Lady may not have anyone to look after her."

And a few hours later, Snape finally arrived, entering the muggle studies classroom quietly at about three o'clock before closing it firmly. Without arguing or mentioning his long-running absence he asked Cecilia to run through the results and the premise she had already formulated, nodding or shaking his head as she went, questioning parts where she was unclear and adding his own spin.

Cecilia showed him the DNA traces, pointing out what they were and which sample matched which wizard, before showing him the distinctive "W" band as he held up to the weak winter light.

"OK, go back to the original hypothesis, what do our results show us?" He paced around the trace before overlaying the next.

"I've mapped the similarities and differences in the contributors," said Cecilia, looking at the key she had drawn, "and where the bands are equally similar and different. My conclusion suggests that the environment decides the degree of wizardness in a muggleborn, however – "

"And you believe this because of Petunia Dursley's sample?" he interrupted, picking up that DNA trace and looking at it again. She moved across and pointed out the significant part.

"If she were to be in a magic environment, as Hermione is, then it is likely her magic powers would develop or become more apparent."

"Then I cannot see what the problem is; you have the evidence now that matches your premise and hypotheses, Cecilia, about inheritance and the blood samples we tested. There is nothing more to be said." He stepped away from her before glancing at the papers on the desk.

"I expect it was good to be home," he added, glancing up at her. Cecilia nodded.

"You met Nick; it was good to see him."

"Then I believe the work is proceeding well; it'll soon be time for me to integrate it into a successful potion for Potter," he continued, looking through the rest of the traces, and Cecilia felt a pang of relief at her presence of mind to remove those of Sirius and Draco.

"The DNA had confirmed Mendelian traits in wizards, Severus, and has shown a vital piece of information about muggle born wizards. Have you ever come across such a phenomenon before? Perhaps in other muggleborns?" The look he gave her made her stop in her quickness of thought.

"Not off-hand," he said, continuing to look at the traces. "However I will investigate. Now, what else are you struggling with? Show me," he commanded, and Cecilia took a seat, leafing through her notes and describing what she had managed to do.

And Severus Snape stopped all day and worked with Cecilia Frobisher, doing all that she imagined. Where she became entangled in her thinking, he talked her through. When he jumped in with science that wasn't quite valid she gently reminded him. Like the old times, Cecilia thought, and was delighted with their progress and tried not to think how much further on they would be if he had helped like he'd promised.

"What about rechecking the blood samples now we've confirmed it?" said Snape.

"We don't have any of Petunia Dursley's blood," said Cecilia, looking at him. "And the samples we do have will have degraded by now, so unless you are suggesting we get new ones then – "

"What can we do about the endocrine system?" said Snape, unabashed. "If it is to do with hormones, how can we test that?"

"It's to do with energy. A function within the body can't be tested in a lab like that. We could if I was back at home, but it'd be to do with blood, I'm afraid. Stuck again." She flopped the sheaf of notes onto the desk.

"Leave it with me," said Snape, slowly. "I'm not promising anything, but if I can get a small sample of Petunia Dursley's blood and you'll have to persuade Potter for some more of his own. I believe she attends a clinic where she allows some to be removed for the purposes of others?"

"Oh," said Cecilia, as she realised what he meant. "She's a blood donor." He nodded in agreement.

"However you must get Potter to promise that he will not tell anyone that he has given blood to you, for reasons of confidentiality," Snape added, looking at her firmly. Cecilia nodded.

And with that, Snape arranged to meet her tomorrow evening to continue their work before leaving her to carry on with it.

Cecilia sat back and looked at the work. Even though she had got little further than that morning, now Snape had gone over it all with her, she felt much more secure. Like their foundations were firmer upon which they were building.

Yet it was still so frustrating not being close to a full picture yet; she still awaited the work from Harry; there was nothing of an Oswald T. and the connection between Lully, the Goblin Riots and 1956 from Hagrid, while sound, did not take her anywhere. And how was that word "reciprocator" linked to all of this.

Cecilia decided that what she needed after all of this was a chance to reflect. The connection was there and now Snape was helping her, it would be sooner discovered. And perhaps the warm water would soothe her addled mind.

An hour later she stepped out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel and wearing warm, terry pyjamas. Sitting down on her bed cross-legged she began to pat her hair dry and considered the second assertive decision she had made that day.

Whether or not Harry and Ron had finished the work by tomorrow night, she would retrieve all the documents back from them and spend time going through them herself. Then she would be able to spot things that they may have overlooked and also put her mind at rest that that branch of research had been thoroughly explored.

Getting to her feet, Cecilia crossed to her dressing table and picked up her hairbrush, ready to tease out the knots in her hair that seemed to be the result of the mineralised tapwater that was used in the castle.

"My, don't you look beautiful," she hear behind her, turning to see who had come in without knocking, and preparing to give tick them off. "The towel round your hair looks so fetching, and the way you screw up your eyes rather than put on your glasses, well: that's truly a step on in cosmetic enhancement."

"Sirius!" Cecilia frowned in his direction and his green, flickering head in the fireplace dodged out of the way as she threw her hairbrush at him into the grate. "I thought I'd told you not to do that. I could have been naked."

"I would have let you know before it got that far, well possibly anyway," he added cheekily. "I've waited all day for you to come back to your room." Cecilia gave him another stare, and folded her arms.

"Please leave. I'm far too busy to deal with intruders like you, Black." She continued to stare at his image in the flames

"I bet Snivellus has great fun trying to keep that feistiness of yours under control," Sirius grinned as Cecilia stood there, growing angrier by the second.

"Fine," she said, "if you're not going to leave, I will!" Cecilia grabbed her dressing gown and slippers and began to make for the door.

"Look," said Sirius, a tone of seriousness in his voice. "You seem to be spending an awful lot of time working and I'm worried about your health. You missed your appointment with Harry on Wednesday," he added. Cecilia stopped her walk towards the door and turned to look at him and raised a finger as if to say something, but became lost for words.

"I asked Harry because we hadn't heard from you. He didn't want to tell me, I must say; you've conjured up quite a loyalty in him."

"Sirius, I'm going behind my wardrobe to change," she said finally. "But please don't go. It has been such a long time since I spoke to you, and I apologise for my abruptness before. Tell me how you are," she continued, opening up her wardrobe door and selecting jeans and a jumper before stepping behind the open door the change.

"Fine, here. We've been having Order meetings nearly three times a week now – "

"Oh?" said Cecilia, leaning from behind the door. "No-one's mentioned that to me…"

"I don't think it's anything of consequence, really," replied Sirius, hoping she couldn't detect the lie in his mind. "Just the same old peace-keeping…" Cecilia emerged far more conservatively dressed than she had done a few moments ago and sat in front of the fire on the flagstones, looking at Sirius.

"You'll have to pick up the brush you threw at me to neaten that lovely long hair of yours Cecilia," he said as she smiled at him. "Then you'll be fine." Carefully she leaned into the hearth and rescued it from the back.

"Sorry," she said, as she reached through Sirius's shoulder. "You can't feel that, can you?"

"No, and neither should you have been able to," said Sirius, looking at her questioningly. Cecilia shook her head.

"I didn't," she said, taking the brush in her hand. "Shame I can't change this like Tonks can," she said, brushing through her unruly locks. "How great that would be, not to be ginger any more."

"Nothing wrong with that; the Weasley family are more than evidence there."

"You were saying aboiut the same old peacekeeping," said Cecilia. "So why are there so many more meetings?" that I haven't heard about, she added to herself.

"Dumbledore realises you're busy; from what he said tonight he thinks you're doing well to keep pursuing all that you are towards this. It must be a tough job; I know I couldn't do it."

"Well, it it's important, I'm sure someone will tell me." She looked at Sirius, who said nothing.

"Sirius," she said urgently, ceasing her hair-brushing for a moment to look at him. "If it's important, please tell me." Sirius looked at her pointedly before continuing.

"I think you ought to know, Cecilia. No-one has said, not to any of us at least. But I think the big attack that Dumbledore is anticipating is going to come much sooner than expected. I believe the reason no-one has said anything to you, and the reason Snape has been keeping out of the way is because the work needs to be done quickly, much more quickly." Cecilia stopped, thinking about what Sirius had just told her.

"So really, I'm not wearing myself out for nothing then," she said, almost to herself. "It's needed yesterday, and every day I delay is a day that's going to bring us all into danger."

"You can't think of it like that, Cecilia. You can only do it in the time you can. Especially if Snivellus is not pulling his weight," he added acidly.

"I never said that," said Cecilia. "You know he has work for the Order."

"So he's not assisting; well it's no wonder you're exhausted. I can see you're exhausted," he interrupted as Cecilia was about to wave away lightly her increasing exhaustion.

"And he hasn't killed you?" She stared at him.

"So you're not here to talk to me, just to dig up information to use against him?" Cecilia got to her feet, annoyed.

"No," said Sirius quickly. "Look Cecilia, I've known him for a long time, I know what he's like." As do I, Cecilia thought to herself.

"Why does it always have to be about Severus?"

"It isn't; you've been working far too hard at this and I am concerned with your health. Without him, you can't keep up this rate. Have you ever asked him why he chooses to leave you on your own? He is a Death Eater after all and betrayal is in his nature."

"But you were the one who told me he was on our side. Besides, I trust him; Severus wouldn't betray me, and besides, he was a Death Eater. He may still have the mark, but inside he is a member of the Order. Such allegiance is implicit, as you said before."

"Are you quite sure, Cecilia? Only you know how you work together. You could return to Grimmauld Place if it means that the Order could help you." Cecilia shook her head.

"I need to be here; this is our work. He will not understand." She retook her cross-legged position on the flagstones. "However…" Cecilia looked at the floor.

"What?" She gazed back at Sirius, his face flickering before her.

"Nothing, Sirius," Cecilia replied, thinking of the mark on his arm and what he had told her, so personally about his life before Hogwarts. And remembering who was asking her.

"It just seemed odd that when it came to it, he didn't want me to leave, even though it would advance our work. I was going home, to the town where I lived and for some reason he thought it was dangerous. Why?" The question was rhetorical, and Sirius did not reply.

"If you like, you can talk to me. I can help you when Snape is otherwise…detained."

"That's very good of you," Cecilia said, looking back at Sirius and smiling. "I am mostly stuck on linking the genetics to wizard inheritance. I think it has something to do with the endocrine system response, but – "

"Actually, I'm probably not the best person to ask, seeing as I didn't understand many of the words you just said." He grinned.

"Well, I'm sure you're good for something," said Cecilia, laughing. Sirius stopped grinning.

"Yes, like saving your life. I think I'd like to save your life again sometime…sometime soon. Goodnight."

"Night Sirius," said Cecilia, getting to her feet. She threw her arms down by her side before bouncing onto the bed. How come Sirius Black knew just exactly how to get under her skin?

88888888

So, what would she need to check the hormone levels in people, she wondered, as she studied one of her A-Level biology textbooks again. It was Saturday afternoon and Cecilia had once again spent most of the day with the door to the classroom shut and her work around her, thinking through it.

The tests described here would be complicated; if she could see what they had in common, she could see if there was a related piece of information she could use from the blood samples.

Carefully, she noted down the main biological process, of homeostasis, and proceeded to read through the notes that Nick had given to her.

Biology, she sighed, half an hour later. It was far more complicated than atoms and physics. They obeyed logical rules that could be calculated mathematically. Even biology came down to maths if you could repeat the tests for long enough or with sufficient accuracy. But it was the ever-variable nature of the subject that irritated her; at least when atoms decomposed they had the decency to do so with regularity so a half-life could be plotted, or with compounds so products could be determined. With biology, you never knew. I suppose that was why to some scientists it was interesting. And also an ethical minefield.

"Mrs Frobisher," said Harry, entering the classroom without knocking. Cecilia looked up from her book and stopped. "Hello Harry, you're a bit early for the lesson; but that's OK, we can start now. She closed the book, but before Cecilia could say or do anything else, Harry began to speak.

"We know about genetics," he said hurriedly. "Me and Ron. We've done all of the notes Mrs Frobisher, and we know all of the scientists that discovered DNA, and where they exist in the cells, everything."

"What?"

"Well, there's little bits of information, called genes in your cells," said Ron excitedly. "And in 1953 two muggle scientists called Crick and Watson showed what the chemicals looked like. Like a spirally curled ladder. And that's inside your cells that tells you who you are." Cecilia got to her feet and looked at the pile of papers Harry was holding out.

"No, I mean what did you say? Did you say you'd done all of them?" They nodded. Cecilia leaned against the table.

"And, we got the information we needed about the scientists for our project, so we don't have to do any more work for it, except for write it, which we'll do now and save us time," said Ron, with uncharacteristic keenness for academia.

"Will we?" said Harry, uncertainly. "Well, if we could work here, Mrs Frobisher, then perhaps you could help us if we're stuck. And we're sorry you were too busy to make the quidditch match." Cecilia looked up at their keen faces, feeling somewhat guilty for breaking her promise.

"Who won?"

"Ravenclaw," said Harry, "but it was a close-run thing."

"It was more important to beat Slytherin last week, though. Against Ravenclaw, at least we can bear it," Ron said pragmatically.

"Can we? Far better to have the trophy."

"So, let's have a look at this work then. Did you find all who were on the list?" Harry nodded, pointing down the first sheet. Here, they had listed the names of the muggle scientists, the dates and nature of their work where they were associated with the name Raymond Lully.

Cecilia looked down the list. The first thing she noticed was how disparate the list was; the scientists were from all disciplines; genetics, atomic physics, psychology...it went on.

"Rutherford, Mendel, Crick and Watson, Pavlov, Skinner, de Broglie, Bohr…" She looked up at both Harry and Ron, shaking her head.

"I can't actually believe it," said Cecilia, finally. "You both have worked so hard on this. It's exactly what I needed." She looked down at the page again. "Crowfoot, Roentgen, Hahn, Boltzmann, Watt…"

"Watt?"

"Watt," repeated Cecilia.

"Yes, Watt?" said Ron again, smirking to Harry.

"Oh yes, very funny," said Cecilia, getting the joke. "Like, "Watt is the unit for power?""

"What is the unit for power?" asked Harry.

"Watt is the unit for power," said Ron laughing. He nudged Harry, and waited for him to laugh too.

"Oh come on, Harry, he said. Watt. Oh, listen here," Ron said, irritably, digging out the encyclopaedia that Cecilia had given to him.

"James Watt, born 1736. British instrument maker and engineer. Inventor of the modern steam engine."

"So? How is that to do with power?" Ron glared at him for a moment before returning to the encyclopaedia, glancing over the top as he turned the page.

"The unit of power, the Watt, was named after him. The unit for energy per second. I wonder if there were any Weasley scientists," Ron wondered aloud, turning over a couple of pages. "Professor Weasley, inventor of the…of the…" He put the book on the bench before Cecilia, so both he and Harry could look.

"No," said Ron, disappointment in his voice. Harry glanced up at Cecilia. "What about Frobisher?" Cecilia smiled.

"Ah yes," said Ron, picking the book up dramatically. "A Professor Frobisher, recently elected scientific Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the theory of muggle and wizard science." Ron looked knowingly between Harry and Cecilia and raised his eyebrows. "Ably assisted by Professor Potter, researcher and test subject." They all laughed.

"So, is it all right if we stay?"

"By all means," said Cecilia, collecting the notes they had efficiently prepared for her and glancing through them. "And again, many thanks for all of this, it has been a huge help. I'll see to it that you gain a few housepoints for this," she added, as the boys took seats a few benches down and opened up their encyclopaedias.

"Let me see if there are any Potters," she heard Harry say as she read through a couple of pages. There really were a few scientists here. She would have to double-check the context of course, and each reference, but in real terms the two young wizards who had been so keen to help her had saved her probably four days' work.

Cecilia looked back at the A-Level book and began to read through the part about the endocrine system again, and had divided her page into two; on one side she began to list hormones that were to do with disease and defence and the other was for the names of the chemicals that were for homeostasis; in short to keep levels in balance, such as insulin and glycogen for sugar levels.

Just as she had completed the first half and had written down the word "adrenaline", Cecilia heard Harry's voice.

"…but you never know," he said to Ron. "That man Lully was a wizard, why not Joseph Black." Cecilia put down her pen in surprise.

"Don't be stupid. Don't you think we would have heard about it if he was? I mean, he's you're godfather, after all…" Cecilia blinked when she realised both Harry and Ron were staring at her.

"What do you think, Mrs Frobisher?" said Ron, quickly. "I looked up Watt again, and we found out he was taught by a Joseph Black. Harry thinks he's related to Sirius." Cecilia stopped what she was doing; her notebook falling from her hand.

"No I don't," said Harry, nudging Ron, "I just said might. I know it's a coincidence; I'm not that thick," he added, looking down.

"What did Joseph Black do, Ron?" asked Cecilia slowly, swallowing once or twice

"Well, he was a Scottish engineer, born in 1728. And he discovered a gas which was fixed, and he told James Watt about it when he was his teacher, and helped him with his design of the steam engine. Watt sent him designs in the post."

"Oh," said Cecilia, looking back at the notes Harry and Ron had left for her. No mention of Joseph Black. "Well, you never know, Harry. He might be related to Sirius. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I've spent far too much time working, and by the look of all this, so have you. Whatever you have now for your project, you can give to me, and we can say that you're done for muggle studies this term.

"Thanks, Mrs Frobisher," said Ron and Harry in unison, handing over their parchments. "See you," they said, racing off.

When she was sure both of the wizards had departed, she locked the muggle studies classroom door behind her and departed to Hagrid's hut.

On opening the door to a shaking Cecilia with books in hands, he ushered her inside. Having established she was not hurt in any way, returned to heating up water to make a liniment for Fang as Cecilia sat in a chair by the open fire and read through the three pages of notes they had made for her, every so often wiping a tear from her eye.

88888888

"That Voldermort used Auld Magic to attack the muggle citizens of this country was entirely unprecedented," repeated Dumbledore. The Order of the Phoenix were gathered in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place once more. "We can only deal with what has happened and minimise the possibility of other attacks until we can safely overcome them."

"Gentlemen! Wizards!" Mrs Weasley had turned from serving the sandwiches to shout at the increasing disorder that was occurring before her.

"Not entirely, for I believe Mrs Frobisher is close to completing her work. Is that not correct, Professor?" Sirius looked at Dumbledore, while throwing a scathing look at Snape.

"What interest do you have in muggles, Black, apart from the obvious?" The room began to grow suddenly quieter as Sirius took a step towards Snape.

"And here we are yet again," said Sirius, addressing the Order, "at a meeting were Severus Snape has nothing to show for his effort."

"It is progressing, Black, which is more than I can say about anything else about the plan. Except that the Dark Lord has begun to move quicker than Professor Dumbledore anticipated."

"And do you know the reason for that, Snape? You should, seeing as you are in Voldermort's confidence."

The room was now deathly silent as all of the Order members watched the argument, play out before them. Just then, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Sirius, until Mrs Frobisher completes the connection, Severus cannot begin on the potion. This is plain. And she is working to her full capacity in order to complete this." Dumbledore looked at the rest of the Order, glancing at each one in turn.

"And to solve the mystery of the Auld Magic that killed so many muggles on Halloween, I have the best. I must thank you Sirius for providing the literature." Dumbledore looked around at the Order again. " Benjamin Wergs, Alastor Moody and Professor McGonagall are all contributing to unravelling the potency of the curse that was performed so it can never happen again. Miss Tonks, do you have a final number on those killed?" Tonks looked quickly at Mr Weasley before stepping forward.

"Last count, it was eight hundred and seventy six. That includes all those identified. But as we know there are more which couldn't be identified." She nodded as she finished to the Order as whispers began to grow.

…that many…

…we did all we could at the time…

…how was it we didn't know…

"Was there any pattern to the killings?" Doris Crockwood stepped forward now, and addressed Tonks. She looked nervously at Mr Weasley again, who put her out of her misery.

"Er, no," said Arthur, rubbing his chin with his pen that he was using to take minutes of the meeting. "not that we can ascertain anyway. But we are looking into it." This time, Snape looked at Dumbledore, signalling he had a relevant comment to make.

"Severus?" said Dumbledore. The room went silent again.

"More attacks are planned using the Auld Magic. The Dark Lord plans to attack more prevalently and more high profile. Against muggles he despises the most, those that provide a future for muggles, in his eyes. Businesses, doctors, politicians, teachers – " he paused as he caught Sirius's eye. Black looked as if he was about to burst with rage.

"Any teachers in particular?" Sirius interrupted with a glint in his eye. "Any important muggles of your acquaintance, Snape? Is she safe in your…hands?"

"She is safe, despite Voldermort's knowledge of her. Which is uncanny. For no-one in this Order would surely jeopardise this vital work…"

Without thinking, Dumbledore stepped between the two wizards.

"Gentlemen. This is not appropriate to the matter in hand. If you cannot restrict your information and questions, Sirius, Severus," he looked sternly at each wizard in turn, "- to our business, I will close this meeting." Both wizards flicked each other a withering glance before looking away.

"Excuse me," said Remus, stepping forward from the back. He stood next to Tonks.

"Yes, Remus? Do you have an appropriate comment to make?"

"I believe we should tell Cecilia," he said. "When she has finished the work, that is. It's not fair for her to be part of this Order and not be told the information, whether or not it is connected with her work."

"No," said Mrs Weasley quickly. "She doesn't need to know this! She doesn't, Remus. It's devastating! Dreadful!"

"And she is working her hardest for us. Perhaps we should consider it." The voice came from Reginald Ellis-Mumford, who had opposed Cecilia joining the Order in the summer. "She has proved her worth, Dumbledore. I second Remus."

"Cecilia Frobisher is due to finish her work soon. I will ask her to present her findings to us. At that meeting, before she joins us, I will ask you all whether you think she should be aware of it. I have given you time to consider the implications of this for, as she is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, a muggle she remains. The decision is weighty and therefore deserves careful consideration. Now, unless there is any more business," Dumbledore looked round to catch any last-minute contributors. "…I call this meeting to a close."

"What are you playing at?!" said Tonks, as the wizards began to intermingle in the kitchen and living room. "She can't know that, it'd be dreadful!" Remus looked up and saw Sirius approaching them.

"What do you think, Sirius?" asked Tonks. "Isn't Remus just a little bit out of his mind?"

"I think that there are more than enough things to think about here than that," said Sirius to them quietly. "Snape knows something which has changed things. Night, Molly – " he added loudly, as Molly and Arthur walked past them. When they were gone, Sirius lowered his voice again.

"Dumbledore's unsure of all of this and keeps putting his trust in Snivellus. And he's supposed to be helping Cecilia, right? So why isn't he?" He looked between Remus and Tonks, sinking into a kitchen chair. Remus sat too.

"If I were he, I would be by her side, supporting her if I had nothing to hide," agreed Tonks. "But we know Snape's got plenty to hide, which is why he's left her to cope on her own. What do you think, Remus?"

"Hm?"

"About Snape and Cecilia. Sirius just said he'd be by her side supporting her."

"And if I was there, I wouldn't leave her alone," said Remus. Tonks looked at him in astonishment. "Look," he said hurriedly. "She's been through so much; I don't think she should be left alone, even if she is doing the research. Then things like Draco breaking into her room and Slytherin tormenting her day after day wouldn't be a problem." Tonks sat down between Sirius and Remus.

"And you want her to know about the muggle killings with all that on her plate?" she asked, incredulously. "Honestly, Remus!" She smiled at him, before leaving the kitchen.

"Well, I'm still not convinced," said Sirius, waving his wand and producing a pot of tea. The tea poured of its own accord into two cups that had appeared with it. "There's something that not even Dumbledore is pleased with. She hasn't come to any conclusions yet, and if Voldermort uses the Auld Magic again before Snape's made that potion for Harry, we'll all be in trouble."

"He said Voldermort knew of her. She's in so much danger, Sirius, still being at Hogwarts."

"Then it's as I said, Moony, she'll be better off when she finishes the work and goes back to her own world." Remus nodded in agreement.

"We must trust that Cecilia is close, then," replied Remus, taking a cup, and feeling the cuts and bruises of his recent visit to the Forbidden Forest with Sirius. "If we have lost our room to manoeuvre as Tonks thinks we have, her work's going to go from important to crucial for us all."

88888888

It made sense. Those words were far from adequate for it, really. But finally. After eight hours of sitting in silence, reading everything Harry and Ron had prepared for her. It fell into place, like a well-oiled cog. After eight hours, and five weeks, and three months…all these deadlines from the time it actually started. But it was done and now, Cecilia could barely believe it.

"Hagrid," she said, looking up. She could not control the flow of tears as the realisation that she had finally completed the work overwhelmed her.

"Mrs Frobisher, I must say, if I'd have known that ye' would be getting' yourself in a state over all o' this, I might have 'ad to have words with Dumbledore meself." He patted her on the back until the sobs died down.

"I know, I know how 'm-portant this all is for ye'. And for all of us too. There. Don't fret now." When Cecilia had finally regained composure, she asked Hagrid if she could explain it to him.

He nodded, and sat back in his chair, nodding as she spoke.

"You won't understand," said Cecilia, quickly.

"Don't matter," he said. "I'd like to 'ear this miraculous work you've done, Mrs Frobisher, in any case." She nodded, and looked down at her notes.

"Lully," she said, nodding to Hagrid, who sat further up in his chair at the name. "He spent time with muggle scientists. Scientists who eventually made the greatest contributions to science this century. With every one of them, a Raymond Lully was involved."

"With the physicists, Roentgen, Bohr, Rutherford, Hahn; it's energy. Atomic theory. Energy levels, electrons. Electrons release energy, you see, when irradiated. That's what these scientists found out. And then there's the blood samples." She turned over her note pages that she had spent the last few hours constructing.

"All but mine and that of the squib sample absorbed the energy from the spells. Mine and the squib's couldn't handle it. Now we come to the next lot of scientists, Hagrid. The biologists. Inside cells contain not only genetic material, but bodies which carry energy to different parts of the body. In wizards and muggles, the inheritance is Mendelian, which means that the ability to do magic is passed on in the cells, where energy can be absorbed, and transformed into useful power. So you can do magic. In muggles of course, it's totally useless, and our bodies succumb to illnesses and death around magic because we can't handle it."

"I just don't know why no-one has thought of this before – " she stopped. But they had. Hadn't Pompops Pomfrey written about something like this when speaking of blood transfusions? She would have to speak to Snobbits to obtain the notes back and read them again.

"And this is why potions affect muggles. Why that veritaserum made me ill. Why I was close to dying." Hagrid got up from his chair.

"Sounds very complicated to me," he said, rubbing Fang on the head. "You'll be better now, lad, won't you?"

"There's more. Every time I look. All the information I have, both Muggle and Wizard. Energy connects it all. It works when I consider energy, in all its different forms.

"Yes…and unbelievably simple, now," said Cecilia, filling up with tears again, full of joy. "It's an Einstein moment, that's for sure." Hagrid looked at her.

"'oo's ', then?" he asked. "'nother scientist, eh?" Cecilia nodded.

"Only the most famous scientist there is, in our world. Albert Einstein. E equals m c squared. The most quoted equation too. Though most people write it down wrong, and don't know what the c stands for."

"What do it stand for?"

"The speed of light. That's the c. It's actually very easy to understand. Energy can be worked out if we know the mass and if we multiply the speed of light by itself. That's how much energy something had. It was revolutionary at the time. Energy, mass, light. And Lully was there when he figured it out. Now, you can't say that muggles and wizards aren't related. No-one can! Not even – " She stopped, as she realised something else too.

"Yes, Mrs Frobisher. Not even who?" But Cecilia ignored him, racing around his hut collecting up her papers, and looking through them frantically.

"What if…what if…" she said as she looked across page after page. "Energy, mass, light…but not mass…" Cecilia looked up at Hagrid, and she smiled.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said, crossing the floor and giving him a hug. "You don't know what it's meant to me to come here and work in peace." She took one of his hands and gave it a kiss.

"Excuse me, I've got to find Snape. He needs to know about this." And without any further delay, Cecilia raced out of Hagrid's hut, almost slipping in the mud outside. She dropped a page from her book, and scrabbled to pick it up, throwing it inside one of the books she had under her arm, and continued to hurry, back along the bridge that connected the scarp slope she had climbed down on Thursday to the castle courtyard, and along the corridor to the muggle studies classroom.

The door was locked, as she had left it hours ago. Cecilia could still see her books inside, and she grabbed the key from her pocket, throwing down her precious research notes onto the flagstones as she scrambled inside.

Once she had it, Cecilia raced swiftly down the corridor again and then up through the main doors. This part of the castle seemed much gloomier, and she kicked the tops of the stairs with her toes in her haste to climb them.

It was strange she realised, as she turned towards the teacher's quarters, how tired she had felt and now, as the realisation that she had her link hit her, as if a gleaming golden arrow was pointing the way from "problem" to "solution", and how light her head felt now.

Here. Here was the link. She entered her own room and pulled back her desk to where she had hidden "Mysterious Mythology." The light in her room was dim, but she managed to find it, and retrieve it from the oak panelling she had got Dobby to make for her to keep the book safe this time.

Cecilia opened the cover and looked at the border of words that encircled the page. Three words repeating themselves over and over again. Now it was complete. The picture was true.

Grabbing for the third time that evening all her notes, the web pages and Mysterious Mythology she made her way a few doors down to Snape's room.

Not bothering to knock, she leaned on the door handle and pushed open the large oak door. Snape was sitting at his desk, his head turned towards her and his face like thunder at being interrupted. Before he could express his clear annoyance at her abrupt ill-mannered entry, she began to speak.

"Look!" she gasped. "It all fits. Energy, Magic Light! I was on the wrong track, or kept missing it, one thing or another. I never thought of energy in the way I would as a muggle. It acts in both ways, energy as a wave and as a particle, in terms of glucose. This is how it works..." She hurried over to where he was sitting holding the book; his look of indignation passing her by as she slapped the heavy volume onto his desk.

"What, Mrs Frobisher? What are you babbling on about?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"Look, I know it must be to do with the work, but please – slower?" He gestured to his bed, indicating for her to sit on it. Cecilia glanced at it, and sat, taking a sigh of relief.

"Energy," said Cecilia. "It fits. Like I explained yesterday, it was one of the possibilities I had been considering. But we weren't getting anywhere." Snape nodded.

"And you were going to look at the endocrine system, Cecilia. I have managed to obtain the blood for our analysis."

"Yes, yes!" she said in excitement. "And it'll work too. All of it will. But only when you consider energy being able to act as both a wave and a particle in wizards! Our scientists got this too. Rutherford…Bohr. Then Einstein proposed a relationship between the mass of something and an associate amount of energy." She paused, taking her eyes off him for a moment. "Raymond Lully had a start too by working with these scientists, but...no-one had ever linked these factors before, it was entirely radical. If he'd had time though..."

She looked at him again, face to face. "Your magic comes from you, yourself. It has to. That's the reason why I can't do it." She tapped her notes frantically. "By some sort of metabolic, cellular process, energy and light combine to form magic. Wave-particle duality! E equals m c squared! The m doesn't stand for mass, it stands for magic!

A look of realisation spread across Snape's face as he glanced down at the notes. Leafing through them quickly, he glanced up at Cecilia periodically, an expression of realisation dawning as she encouraged him. He looked at Cecilia.

"The energy…behaves as a wave…as in "Expelliarmus" or "Accio"…acting on the matter itself…as…vibrations?" He looked up at her incredulously, speaking the words aloud.

"Waves. And when you use spells like "Engorgio" or "Ferreverto"," she continued, buoyed along by the velocity of her thoughts, "…the energy acts as a particle; a packet that interacts with the very DNA itself…"

"Changing the size or even the very nature of the body upon which the spell is cast…" Snape looked between her manuscript and her shining eyes.

"The only exception being…blood corpuscles; red blood cells. In mammals they contain no nucleus; no DNA, so they cannot be changed…which is why Harry's blood was needed by Voldermort last year to bring him back to life…" She smiled, and a weight of understanding, all knitted together for now, was cast from her exhausted mind onto the very pages that Snape was holding.

"Which also explains why you get muggle born wizards, and squibs. It's no wonder blood is so important to you, to wizards Severus...being a wizard really is in the blood..."

"Gods," said Snape, looking at her incredulously. "I can scarcely believe it. You know what this means, Cecilia..." She looked back, and shook her head slightly.

"We're close…" he concluded, throwing the notebook onto his desk. "What we have here is the key, the link. This science of yours has actually brought wizards and muggles together..."

"We need to test it, but if I'm right then I'd say so. It shouldn't take long to come up with a potion that can subdue Harry's powers long enough to cause Voldermort to be defenceless. That's the link," she added, hugging him. Caught off-guard, he hugged her back, holding her against his body for a few moments. Cecilia smiled, considering the hypothesis again. Suddenly he coughed and abruptly let her go.

"My apologies, Cecilia," he said, stepping away from her. She snorted.

"Severus," she said reproachfully, "I think we're long past that. Anyway I know you're as overjoyed as I am, no matter what you say! And now we have it, I can refine it with you over the next few weeks. And you can incorporate it into a potion for Harry." Cecilia put her hands to her head; weariness overcoming her like a strong wave, out to sea, building far away but its effects were being felt. She really must go to bed, she thought, and the very idea just seemed so funny.

"And your cause for laughter?" asked Snape, coolly.

"Relief," she said, between the odd waning burst of mirth. "Can't you feel it? You must do, you appreciate... what we've done..." she yawned, "..we're the first people ever…to understand it…"

"The implications of this are unprecedented. Should our work prove valid, the possibilities are immeasurable."

"I need you to read it," Cecilia said, getting to her feet. "All of it. In case I have made a mistake." She thrust the rest of the work his way, including "Mysterious Mythology". Snape looked at her as she sat back down on the bed.

"You're tired," he intoned, stating the obvious. "You should go to bed. You've done enough for one day."

"Not until you read it, not until…" Cecilia yawned again, but urged Snape to begin. He looked at her with narrowing eyes before turning to the table and reading the first few pages.

At length, he turned and looked at Cecilia, not knowing what to say. She looked anxiously back at him.

"It's complete, Cecilia. I can now take this work in its entirety and work on the potion. We need do no more laboratory work. I am satisfied with these results." He looked at her as if to inform her that now he had acceded to her requests, she was free to go. Cecilia got to her feet, unsteadily. Suddenly, the room began to look uneven and she grabbed for the black satin quilt on Snape's bed.

"May I trouble you for a glass of water, Severus?" she asked quietly. "I'm half-expecting Dobby to come bursting in, wondering if the reason I've not been to dinner is because I've been murdered," she added, laughing to herself. Snape said nothing, but conjured some water and handed it to her.

"Here…" Cecilia took it from him gratefully, taking a sip. It was cool and refreshing.

"So," Cecilia said softly. "If we are ever included in an encyclopaedia of scientists, do you think future generations will feel inspired by us? That a wizard and muggle actually managed to get on long enough to work together?" she looked at him with interest, despite her growing exhaustion, and placed her glass onto the flagstone floor.

"I shouldn't think so," he said, considering teenagers in general. "They'll probably be too busy defacing the book with sarcastic comments and suggestive drawings to take any notice. However…" He turned to look at her, "…we will know," he added and, Cecilia thought hazily, for the first time he's smiled properly.

"Yes," sighed Cecilia lethargically and swung her other foot onto the bed. She leaned against Snape, resting her head on his arm. Instead of pulling away, as she'd half-expected, he put his arm around her. There. She was back in familiar territory now; she had found someone she could work with. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. Sighing again, she closed her eyes.

When she would awake in Snape's bed the next morning, she would have no idea that he'd lifted her gently into it and had folded the covers over her. She would not recall the tenderness with which he held her hand nor realise how close his face had come to hers as if to brush her lips with his own before pausing and leaning over to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. She would not know of the gentleness with which he stroked some stray hairs from her cheek, nor see him sitting at his desk to begin on the huge notebook she had laid on it earlier, glancing over every so often as she moved in her sleep.

She wouldn't remember those things, but the two students, hidden from view under an invisibility cloak, having watched the scene unfold with increasing incredulity and horror, certainly would.

88888888


	17. The New Weapon

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"So I suppose she's done it then."

Harry and Ron paced cautiously together along the second floor corridor, Harry's invisibility cloak aloft. The weak winter light inched apologetically through the windows and they passed the sleeping pictures in their frames, their occupants resting soundly. Harry looked Ron. It was the first time either of them had spoken since they had spotted Cecilia hurrying with her books into the castle.

Then their conversation had been about discovering more of the research, and especially the nature of the muggle science she had carried out when she left near Halloween, how near she was to finishing and what would happen to Harry when Snape had made the potion.

Now, with the apparent muggle science solved neither young wizard could believe what they had seen take place.

"Looks like it. Never thought I'd see that though." Harry looked ahead this time, through the fabric of the invisibility cloak at the fuzzy surroundings before him. Mrs Frobisher had looked exhausted, he thought. And Snape did the sensible thing when he saw that she so worn out and let her sleep. It was that simple. Only…if it were that simple, why had he…

"Do you think we should tell Dumbledore?" said Ron as they approached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. "He might have done anything to her by now."

"Mrs Frobisher went to sleep, Ron," said Harry replied, looking at the portrait of the Fat Lady which hung across the common room entrance. "She's been working too hard and hardly resting according to Dobby. It's no wonder."

"Still," continued Harry as he racked his brain to think of the password. "I can't believe what he did – " They tiptoed towards the Fat Lady, who was sighing heavily in her sleep; around her a group of lambs skipped merrily around one witch, their presence clearly surplus to requirements now. "I mean, he kissed her on the – "

"Shhhh!" said Ron loudly as they stood in front of the picture. "I know! I saw him! But Cecilia didn't kiss him back though, did she?" Ron's was tinged with bitterness. "Look, we'd better get back before we're missed." Harry glanced at Ron as they stood underneath the invisibility cloak. Ron took a step forward.

"Look," said Harry, holding Ron's arm. "You don't really think of her like that, do you? I mean; I know you like her. She's nice, in a muggle-teacher kind of way but – "

"What would you know? Let's just get back to bed, shall we?" Ron turned towards the picture of the Fat Lady. "Sinister canis!"

"Who is that?!" The Fat Lady, in her Victorian dressing gown sat on the edge of her four poster bed peering out at the interruption.

"Sinister canis!" said Ron, annoyed. He pulled off the invisibility cloak, throwing it at Harry. "Open up you stupid old thing. We need to get inside!"

"Shhhh!" hissed Harry, jumping forward next to Ron. "Sorry," he whispered apologetically to the portrait, who was about to chide Ron loudly for his rude exclamation.

"I should think so too," replied the Fat Lady, scoldingly. "I think your friend's manners leave a lot to be desired!" The picture creaked to one side and Ron stalked through, leaving Harry trailing behind as he glanced back to the Fat Lady, noticing from the 60-degree angle from which he was viewing the picture that she had returned to the four-poster bed.

"Hey-eh! What have we here? Night prowlers?" Harry turned his head quickly and noticed that Fred and George were sitting on one of the common-room settees, and had apparently popped up from the back of it as Ron had passed.

"Yes Fred. Very funny," said Ron, trying to get past his brother. "We're Slytherin students, first years, who got lost on the way back from the dungeons and realise we're in the wrong place because this common room looks so cheerful." Harry took a few more steps towards Ron, smiling wanly to himself at his friend's sarcastic comment.

"Well we'd better see you right then, Slytherin students," laughed George, stepping to his right to stop Ron getting by. "Either you tell us where you've been, or we'll take you straight to your head of house so you can explain yourself."

"You'd take me to the McGonagall?" said Ron furiously. "Like you've never left the dorm at night. In fact I think it'd be easier to count on one hand how many times you've stopped put ever since you've been here!" He flopped angrily, but defeated onto a floral settee on which Fred and George had hidden and jumped out on him from a few moments ago.

"Take it easy, Ron," said Harry, concerned at the display of temper from Ron. "I'm sure the twins were only joking," he added, looking urgently at Fred and George. They nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, we were talking about Snape," said Fred, jumping on the settee next to Ron and putting one hand on the back of his golden head casually. "Seeing as you said you were from Slytherin," he continued, looking at George as Ron shot him a look.

"Well you just might as well not bother. He's got company at the moment," said Ron, bitterly before looking at Harry. Harry nodded sympathetically.

"Oh yes? A woman, eh?" winked George. "Let me guess, Mrs Frobisher's finally given into his charms?" Ron glared at Harry before looking back at George, saying nothing.

"What?" said George, looking at Fred. Fred's eyes widened in realisation.

"No!" said Fred in horror.

"Surely not!" said George as the thought transferred osmotically between the twins. "We thought she had better taste than that. You _are_ joking?"

"No," said Harry, quickly, sitting on the arm of the chair and glancing between the twins. "She went to his room," he looked at Ron, "to tell him she'd solved the research. You know that," Harry said, turning to Ron. Ron folded his arms and "harrumphed" in sarcastic agreement.

"If you say so, Harry," he added.

"Well you were there with me, Ron. And you saw her pass out – "

"In Snape's arms!"

"No," said Harry. "She didn't. He kissed her, when she was asleep. That's what we saw." He tapped Ron reassuringly in the shoulder. Ron pulled away sharply.

"So," said Fred, nudging George, who had joined him on the settee. "Is that it? Little Ronniekins is jealous?" He patted his brother on the shoulder, but Ron pulled away, folding his arms still further.

"Hang on, she went to sleep," said George, interrupting Ron quickly and looking at Harry in confirmation. "And he kissed her?" Harry nodded. The twins exchanged glances before looking at their younger brother.

"I wouldn't worry," said Fred, tapping Ron comfortingly on the shoulder. "I expect that's the only way he can get a woman in any case, waiting till she passes out."

"So she's done the research then?" said George, shuffling up on the settee and allowing Fred more room and at the same time squashing Ron against the other arm. "That's great news – "

"Isn't it?" finished Fred. Harry said nothing, but shrugged and threw his invisibility cloak onto the settee opposite sitting down heavily next to it.

"No," said Ron darkly. "I bet you'll be happy when she's gone. Or at least Sirius will. I expect you'll be owl-mailing him as soon as you can, Harry? Seeing as Dobby has warned us that outgoing Floo messages are duplicated to the McGonagall's grate. I suppose if she's with Snape then Sirius can't harm her again." The twins looked at one another as Harry got to his feet quickly and, looking sharply at Ron, made towards the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

"Where're you going?" muttered Ron, not looking at Harry but staring at the fireplace where the flames danced merrily in the hearth.

"Bed. Then you can calm down and talk sensibly." He gathered up his invisibility cloak from where he had thrown in a few minutes ago. "And maybe apologise for what you just said. And for taking this. You know how special it is, because it was Dad's." Harry shook the cloak in his direction. Ron glared at him.

"What? You think I'd borrow your invisibility cloak?" He glanced at the bundle of fabric in his friend's hand and shook his head in disbelief. "And if you think I'm apologising you can- " stopped, catching a look that passed between the twins.

"What?" said Harry, stepping back down the stairs.

"Yes, what?" said Ron, looking at Fred. He looked back at George before both of them swivelled their heads and looked at the returning Harry.

"Er," said Fred, glancing at Ron who had got to his feet and had stood next to Harry. He folded his arms accusingly.

"You were at Quidditch practicing – "

"Both of you – " said George.

"And we, er," George nudged Fred now, who was on his feet.

"We did it to help Cecilia – "

"Mrs Frobisher, that is – "

"She needed to get to the Slytherin dorms, to Draco's room, when he took something of hers. The night after she was broken into." George looked between Harry and Ron, pleading their indiscretion.

"She was going to walk right in there on her own, bold as brass," Fred continued as Ron, now standing next to his friend in support, folded his arms.

"If we hadn't come up with a safer way, then she probably wouldn't be here now. She wouldn't have the muggle-wizard science."

"She did that?" Harry sat down on the sofa again. "I…she never said…" he shook his head in disbelief. "But I can't believe you took this." He gripped the cloak tighter as he spoke. "How many times have you taken it without you asking?"

"So would you have let us if we'd asked?" Harry glared at Fred, who shrugged at George confused.

"She's so brave," said Ron, looking at his brothers. "Even we've never been to the Slytherin dorm. Look what she's done for you, Harry." He turned to look Harry, raising his voice. "And all you can do is accuse me of betraying you? What's the matter anyway? You didn't used to be so protective."

"I didn't used to have the prospect of losing my powers hanging over my head either," snapped Harry, sinking back into the sofa. His voice was hollow; resonating his hitherto unuttered feelings. Before they had merely been vague clouds of unease, lingering at the back of his subconscious but now - they had consolidated into…fear. Harry slumped forward, holding his head between his invisibility cloak in his hands.

Ron squeezed himself between Harry and the arm of the other sofa and patted his back, half expecting Harry to pull away. But Harry just held his face against the cloak until he had regained composure.

"We can just go and tell Dumbledore you won't do it," said Ron, comfortingly. "You can say you've thought about it, and you think it's too dangerous. He looked across at the twins, who nodded slowly. Fred walked across and sat on the arm next to Harry.

"It's not like he can force you. You've done enough to fight Voldermort as it is." Harry shook his head, and looked at Ron, his eyes red from bitter, strong tears.

"And say what? 'Can you also say sorry to the Order for risking their lives every day to stop the Death Eaters from damaging the ministry? And can you also apologise to all the muggles who will die in the future because Voldermort is about? And say sorry to Mr Diggory for Cedric's death and to all the other fathers like him in the future who'll lose sons? Oh and not forgetting to say sorry to Mrs Frobisher for coming all this way and doing so much, nearly getting murdered on three occasions and solving the muggle science? Because I'm afraid I can't take the potion because I might not get my powers back'. That's going to go down really well, isn't it?"

"She's solved the muggle science?" The voice came from behind them and the boys turned to see Hermione, dressed with her work ready to visit the library, coming down the stairs. "Oh how marvellous!" She paced quickly across to Harry and Ron, George stepping aside to let her pass. She looked at Harry as she sat next to George on the sofa, looking intently at Harry.

"You're up at quarter past five to go to the library?!" asked George, incredulously.

"What did she do then?" Hermione continued, ignoring George. "What was the link? I can't wait to speak to her about it; she promised me, you know, she promised all of us, didn't she Ron, that she'd tell us about it once she'd done it. You know, I might just forget about the library and go and find her now." Hermione stopped when she saw the expressions of glumness on Harry and Ron's faces.

"What's the matter?" She asked, looking between Harry and Ron. "What's happened?" They looked between one another, saying nothing.

"Look," said George, turning to Hermione just as she was about to ask them again.

"Harry and Ron sneaked down to – actually, what had you gone to find out about?" he asked, realising they had not given a reason for actually sneaking out that night. "Well anyway, they followed Mrs Frobisher and she went to Snape's room. And they heard her explain the connection between muggle science and wizard magic. So in short, she's figured it out. That's what's upsetting Harry. He's scared about his imminent loss of powers, and how the effects could be permanent with the potion Snape's going to make. And after she told him, Mrs Frobisher passed out, and Snape tucked her up into his bed and kissed her when she was out of it. That's what's upsetting Ron." Both boys glared at George, as he succinctly outlined their problems to Hermione. She looked between them.

"Oh," she said, shaking her head. "Gosh, I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it, the both of you." Hermione stared at them both.

"Right, OK." She said, looking at both Harry and Ron. "Aside from the fact you were spying on her: Ron, from what George has just said, Cecilia has just made _the_ biggest discovery for both the muggle and wizard worlds. It's mindblowingly big. Wouldn't you want to share it with your work colleague, especially if you had no-one else to talk to about it that would understand? He was probably very pleased that she had done it, now he can make the potion. I mean, it can't be fun being a spy for Dumbledore and still have to go and associate with Death Eaters, can it?"

"I thought you hated Snape?" said Harry, quietly. "I still think there's more to this than professional appreciation, Hermione. You weren't there; you didn't see _how_ he kissed her," he added quickly to stop her interrupting. "It was…"

"I do think you're making a big deal of this. And Harry, don't you think that Cecilia and Snape are going to make it as safe for you as they possibly can? They aren't just going to feed you the first one they make, are they? I know Mrs Frobisher wouldn't. I really wish you'd both think reasonably, before jumping to conclusions." She tutted as Ron and Harry glanced at one another, and she got to her feet.

"Anyone else want to join me in the library? The grimoires will have been returned by now, so I'll get all the information I need from them today. OK, fine," she said, getting to her feet. See you later.

"Bye," they chorused, as she left them.

"Well, I still think there's more to this than meets the eye," said Harry to Ron and the twins. "And I'm going to tell Sirius."

"Why? What does he need to know for? Do you tell him everything she does?" Harry looked down as Ron spoke, thinking about the letter that Sirius had sent asking Harry to tell him everything. And he had. But Ron was right, and so was Hermione. Did he have to know about this? Surely the most important thing was the research.

"Surely the most important thing is the research," continued Ron, echoing Harry's own thoughts. "Perhaps Hermione's right and there was nothing in it," he added, hopefully.

"And they'll have to make sure it's safe, Harry," said Fred, tapping Harry on the back. "How do you feel about defeating Voldermort?" Harry shrugged, and looked at Fred.

"I don't know. Afraid. Relieved, too. I mean what if my powers don't come back…I will have defeated the greatest evil the world has ever known, but I won't have my powers, I'll be even less like my parents. Much further away from them than before. I'll do it, though," he added, looking at Ron. "I'll have to. Imagine having the opportunity to rid the world of Voldermort and not take it. I'm afraid, but I'll do it."

"Way-hey!" cheered George, jumping up from the settee. "Spoken like a true Gryffindor. Three cheers for Harry, hip-hip…"

"Hurray," finished Fred, "Hip-hip…"

"Hurray," cheered Ron, grinning at Harry. "Hip-hip…"

"Hurray," they all cheered, and grinned to one another.

"Thanks guys," said Harry, getting to his feet. "Now I think it's time for some sleep. Coming Ron?"

Five minutes later, leaving the twins in the common room they crept into their own beds, amidst the snoring of their fellow Gryffindors, Harry thought about all that had gone on.

"Are you going to the Christmas ball?" he whispered across to Ron.

"Hm?" said Ron, sleepily "Is there going to be one? A ball like the Yule Ball last year?"

"Ah-m" whispered Harry, "though not exactly the same. No Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. Just us."

"I'm not going through all that again; not having to ask people. Perhaps I'll ask…" he yawned, and turned over in the direction of Harry.

"I asked Hermione," said Harry, "but she said she wasn't going to go. So I asked Ginny instead; she said yes. You're not upset, are you?"

"Nah," said Ron. "Hermione's just a friend, Harry. And anyway, Mrs Frobisher did say men think differently to women. I bet Hermione's been obsessing about the whole thing since last year."

"When did she say that?" asked Harry quickly. He hadn't recalled Ron mentioning this before.

"Oh, last week; just after she gave us the work to look through for her. I went to find Angelina about the quidditch final and met her coming out of the Great Hall. She said I should look deep down and see what my heart was truly telling me."

"I don't think you should ask Mrs Frobisher, Ron," Harry swallowed, wondering why she would give Ron such strange advice. "I know how much you like her, but she'll tell you it's not appropriate, like the last time – " Before he could say anything else however, the warm feeling of sleep washed over Harry's head and he yawned.

"But she won't be our teacher any more, and the more I think about it the more I'm sure Hermione was right about tonight," added Ron, a little too loudly. Seamus Finnigan in the bed next to him turned over and opened his eyes in the pale morning light.

"Anyway, you asked Ginny? Thanks," he continued, changing the subject as he shuffled to a more comfortable spot. "She said Neville was all hands last year, even though he was a very good dancer. I would have worried if it had been anyone else, Harry. At least you can look after her."

Harry nodded to himself as he drifted off to sleep. Should he break it to him? He pictured Ginny in his mind's eye; no longer the child he had first met at Kings Cross Station five years ago. Sooner or later Ron would have to get used to the fact that his little sister was growing up.

88888888

"You are to be highly commended, Mrs Frobisher, for the work you have done." Dumbledore warmly, ushering Cecilia to sit on one of the chairs he magicked into existence before them.

"Hear hear," said former headmistress Dilys from her frame. "We are all overjoyed at your success, my dear," she added, looking around the pictures of the former heads of Hogwarts who were listening intently at the conversation before them.

"Are we?" asked Phineas Nigellus, doubtfully.

"Yes, we are," replied Dippet, loudly at the Black antecedent and most unpopular headmaster of all time. "Because Albus is overjoyed at her success."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, confirming his predecessor's sentiments. "We have the making of the new weapon now, and it is entirely down to your perseverance and skill."

"Our, Professor," said Cecilia quickly, looking at Snape. He had not sat on Dumbledore's request, but stood by the side of Cecilia's chair, looking stern. "Both Severus and I have done this." Dumbledore looked from Cecilia to Snape. He didn't move as she spoke, but stood immobile, listening to the conversation between them.

"Yes, of course…now, you may be able to get on with the work?" He addressed Snape, who nodded stiffly. "I have checked the science, headmaster. We do indeed have the correct information." He held out a sheaf of parchment, neatly bound. "I took the liberty, Mrs Frobisher, of reproducing the notes that you made, and also adding a version that could be more easily understood by wizards. For your information, headmaster." He handed the work to Dumbledore. Cecilia watched him carefully.

It had been a strange morning, and that was no doubt. The last thing she had remembered was waking up in bed, thinking about the dream she had had. It felt so real, and she had almost jumped out and hurried downstairs to her kitchen in search of Tim, her Tim, who had been in the kitchen, making bacon and eggs. Who was, inexplicably, home again, and they were back together.

Only…she wasn't as home now. She was at Hogwarts. And what she had believed to be real, was indeed a dream.

She had lain back down and her heart sank. There was no Tim and Cecilia again, as her subconscious had told her, there was only her. So why had she felt so…light…carefree...like something was off her shoulders.

Then she'd looked around and realised – something was not quite right. The desk, for example. It didn't have her things piled up on top of it. Her clothing, which Dobby dutifully and insistently washed for her were not on her chair. The room itself was much darker than her own.

"That is most diligent, Severus. How long will it be now until you can perfect the potion? You understand we need it as soon as possible."

Cecilia looked across at Snape, as he looked at Dumbledore, who had looked up reading the manuscript containing their work. It had taken her a while to work out where she was that morning and then, all at once, she remembered going to speak to Severus the previous night. About the research. About muggles and wizards. Of course! Energy had been the connection.

"And you have information regarding the wizard Lully," continued Dumbledore. He looked across at Cecilia, who had begun to daydream and was staring at the portrait of Godric Gryffindor (1097-1123) which hung above Dumbledore's office fireplace. She nodded, looking back at him.

"If you notice here," she said, getting up from her chair and pointing to the relevant page in the research notes, "it would seem that Lully was a wizard who worked with muggle scientists, almost eighty years ago. Not only scientists, but the best scientists of the age." Dumbledore looked at her in astonishment.

"This is indeed remarkable. Raymond Lully was indeed a wizard of high standing. He was a member of the Ministry for many years. Are you sure of his involvement?" he asked, peering over his half-moon spectacles.

"Yes," she nodded happily. "From the evidence I have from the muggle scientists themselves." Cecilia stopped and exhaled, to stop herself getting too worked up with the excitement of her discovery.

"I believe, Professor," she continued, "that if Raymond Lully had completed all the work he was undertaking, with the physicists at the turn of the century, and with the geneticists, and medicine, where Pompops Pomfrey was involved, he would have come to the same conclusion as we have." She looked at Snape, who was giving her the same look as he had done when he had re-entered his room when she got up, asking whether she had slept well. Cecilia had nodded, in confirmation, feeling slightly self-conscious at sitting on the edge of Snape's bed with the satin covers around her shoulders.

"It does not affect the science-magic connection. The information we have is enough. But," she paused. Dumbledore looked at her again. "I am convinced there is more to it than that," Cecilia conceded, running her mind over again the pieces of information that had not yet fitted into the jigsaw puzzle: the title page of Mysterious Mythology giving her the link. And Joseph Black. "In fact, I'm sure of it. It just seems so much of a coincidence that he studied all of this…there's surely more to this than what I've presented to you." Dumbledore nodded.

"I agree, Mrs Frobisher. And were this not a time of war, I would declare this work of supreme importance to our worlds. It is indeed of significant interest to both muggles and wizards, and shows we are more closely related than others believe us to be." Snape shifted from foot to foot.

"So it must suffice that the only wizards to be informed are those of the Order of the Phoenix, and Harry too, should he be interested. You have proved yourself an honourable member of the Order, Cecilia." Dumbledore placed the manuscript on his desk, and sat down in his large oak chair, pushing his spectacles up his nose.

"We will need time to refine the connection, headmaster," said Snape, looking from Cecilia to Dumbledore. Cecilia looked at him in astonishment. At long last he was voicing her opinions, rather than re-interpreting her sentiments. He was supporting her and agreeing with her before Dumbledore, which he had never done before.

Cecilia had said the very same thing to Snape that morning, as she collected her things together from his desk, before thanking him for his hospitality that night. And now, standing before Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard in the world describing their success, the thought struck her now that they were at ease in each others' company.

"We also need – " began Cecilia, but Snape shook his head. "I took the liberty Cecilia, of compiling a full inventory of my private stores and your kemi-kals. In believe we have more than enough of everything." He handed her a list, written in green ink and Cecilia scanned it. He was right; there was everything they could possibly need, from innocuous plant materials to concentrated acids and venoms.

"In that case, we should continue now, today," she said, handing the list back to Snape. "It is Sunday after all, and if we can get the preliminary work done, you'll be in a position to continue the work when I've returned home."

Cecilia had been nursing this thought at the back of her mind for several days now, telling herself, reminding herself to keep going, then she could be back home for Christmas. She could see Libby and Freya. She would be able to go to church and hear the Salvation Army carols on Christmas Eve. She could walk amongst the shops and marvel at the glittery clothes and woollens that were for sale. And now the connection was made, she could put the dangerous world of wizards behind her and get on with her life.

"I –" began Snape, but stopped as Dumbledore as he got to his feet.

"Your sentiments are noble, and your dedication to your work, as I have said, are remarkable." He nodded at her in acknowledgement. "However there will be plenty of time to complete the work, Cecilia. I wish you to consider taking the remainder of the day to rest. This evening will be time enough to speak of your triumph, for a triumph it is." He got to his feet and walked over to Cecilia, patting her on the back. "I trust you rested well enough last night?" Cecilia nodded dumbly. What did he mean, this time enough this evening?

"There is another meeting this evening," Dumbledore continued, as if reading her mind. "As a member Cecilia, and principal researcher in this matter, I can think of no-one better suited to address the Order on the work." Cecilia looked at him sharply.

"You want me to return to Grimmauld Place? And speak to the Order?" Her mind began to race with thoughts, and Dumbledore put a friendly arm around her shoulders.

"Of course," he said warmly. "Your work is unprecedented. Even Raymond Lully was unable to make the connection, or at least as detailed and practical as yourself." Cecilia looked at Snape. He had not moved since Dumbledore had mentioned the Order meeting. Now he turned, and nodded towards Cecilia.

"But – " she began, taking a step towards him. "Severus…"

"You are duty-bound to share this information with the Order," Snape concurred, turning to Cecilia. "And for many of those present you will feed them information that will force them to reconsider their views of muggles. If you wish to work this afternoon, we may. But you should take a few hours' off, at least." He smiled a little at her, and Cecilia nodded. At least she would be able to attend the Order meeting with him and she wouldn't have to stand before thirty wizards alone.

"All right," Cecilia said, defeated. "I'll be at the potions classroom at three." Snape nodded in agreement. And once I've done all of this, she thought to herself, and passed the work on, I can think about going home.

88888888

"Have you considered how this will impact on all of your potions?" Cecilia pointed to the equation they had before them, energy, light and magic. It was six o'clock in the evening and Cecilia and Snape were in the middle of a heated debate about the status of future potions teaching at Hogwarts.

"It's going to, when you teach, now we understand about energy," she persisted. Snape glared at her momentarily before striding over to the bookshelf and retrieving a battered volume of "The Standard Book of Spells, Volume 2: Potionmaking."

"Not in the least. I will not be teaching wizards about energy," he intoned. "This is what they learn."

"By using the calorimeter you'll be able to cut down on research time, and allow students to come to their own conclusion about the most effective ingredients, without them needlessly wasting batches which are of the wrong consistency."

"I will indeed use that method for our research, Cecilia," he said, looking at the instrument carefully. "What I suggest is if we analyse the potions we do have that will have the most effect. It will short-cut our work by many months," he agreed. Cecilia sat on the edge of the bench and rested her feet on the bench, looking at the array of potions she had watched Snape prepare that afternoon. They now had a better idea of the efficacy of the potion, and they had agreed that it would probably be necessary for it to be in two stages – one to inhibit the endocrine action, so as to disable Voldermort in some way. The other to counteract its effect at a predetermined time; an antidote to the disabling effects of the first potion on Harry.

"We still need to consider the effect on the endocrine system so we can determine quantities," he said, writing it down in their new notebook. "I think we should work on that first, before we begin on – "

Just then, the door creaked opened and Snape turned in its direction. He scowled, and Cecilia turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway.

"Excuse me, Ce- Mrs Frobisher," said Hermione quickly. "I was just wondering whether you had time to –" She took a couple of steps towards Cecilia, but stopped as Snape approached her malevolently.

"How dare you interrupt, Miss Granger," he growled icily. "Mrs Frobisher and I are engaged in a professional conversation. Five points will be deducted from Gryffindor House for your impertinence and boldness." She looked at Snape, then back at Cecilia. Cecilia got to her feet.

"I would be grateful Hermione if your query is to do with schoolwork that I speak to you tomorrow during your lesson? At the moment I am currently engaged with Professor Snape in other matters." Hermione looked between Cecilia and Snape, nodding in comprehension.

"May I speak to you afterwards, then? During break? It's just – " she stopped, realising Snape was still staring at her. Cecilia realised it too.

"Of course. Enjoy your evening, Hermione," she said, urging the young witch to leave them. "I appreciate your conscientious attitude to your work," she added, hoping the veiled gratitude would not pass un-noticed. Hermione nodded.

"Of course," she said, and with a quick glance at Snape, departed hurriedly.

"What was all that about?" said Snape, when Hermione had shut the door. Cecilia sat herself back on the table, and looked back at him. "Anything I should know about?"

"Not really," said Cecilia, lightly. "Unless you're interested in the heartache of a young witch in love," she added.

"Spare me," said Snape scornfully, looking at the three hours' work laid out before them on the table. "Now, the potion you saw me brew third, that can be made in two stages. So it is certain that we could reverse the second stage. It matches the ultraviolet frequency you tested in the summer, so it is more than suitable in that respect." He put down the vial of green, clear liquid. "If it could be done then –"

"We would have the template liquor," they said in unison. Cecilia and Snape looked at one another.

"I feel, Mrs Frobisher that we may be finished this work sooner than we expect. The flobberworm breeding has gone to plan, and so therefore we will be able to experiment on the cellular effects and – WHAT IS IT NOW!" he boomed, as the door creaked open again.

"I do beg your pardon, headmaster," he added, in much more staid tones as Dumbledore entered the classroom. He lowered his wand which he had automatically pulled out in response to the interruption. Cecilia jumped off the table again.

"Do excuse us for the interruption," began Dumbledore, as Harry followed him inside the classroom. "May I speak with you, Professor Snape?" Snape glared at Harry, who had sat himself on one of the chairs at the back of the classroom and was eyeing the potions that were laid out on the desk by Cecilia.

"Alone? It will only take a couple of minutes." Snape nodded, and shot Harry a withering stare, before looking in the direction of the room at the back of the potions classroom.

"My office, headmaster, will that suffice?"

"Indeed," said Dumbledore graciously. He followed Snape up the stone steps and through the arched doorway without looking back. Cecilia watched Dumbledore close the door, wondering vaguely what it was about.

"Mrs Frobisher?" Cecilia turned and saw Harry next to her, looking at the potions on the table beside her.

"Mrs Frobisher, I was wondering. I spoke to Dumbledore and he told be you had made the connection between muggles and wizards." He looked earnestly at her as he spoke, and Cecilia smiled and nodded.

"Indeed," she replied. "And I must thank you, Harry. If you had not undertaken the research of scientists, I would not have done so as soon. Would you like me to explain the connection?" Harry looked at her quickly, then nodded.

"Okay then, sit down."

Ten minutes' later and Harry appeared more confused than ever, but he seemed to be happy with the explanation she'd given.

"So you see, Harry, your question about light was not stupid. It acts as a particle and a wave. I said it was an advanced question because it means the person needs to be prepared for the answer to be complex. More than two things are happening at the same time, you see. It's neither one nor the other exclusively and as such we get the answer of energy." Harry nodded.

"Energy, like you said to Hermione and Ron, a few months ago. That's the link? So you knew all along, deep down." Cecilia nodded.

"I had a suspicion. But with science it has to be provable. You must be able to demonstrate it many times over to ensure you have the correct link. But not only that, Raymond Lully almost found it. And if he hadn't been killed in the Goblin Riots, it may have come to light in the wizard world long before now."

"That's great," said Harry, smiling. "So you're getting on with making the potion with Snape?" Cecilia frowned.

"Professor Snape, Harry," she chided. "And yes, we seem to have made some progress, even today.

"It's difficult to understand parts of it," continued Harry. "It seems like a lot of things going on at once." He looked down away from Cecilia, with an expression of trepidation; as his long walk to his execution was stayed during the whole time she was searching. "You've put in a lot of work, Mrs. Frobisher," he added quietly.

"And how do you feel about it, Harry?" asked Cecilia, sitting at a bench. The fire in the hearth of the muggle studies classroom flickered and crackled. I have to ask; the wizards who claim to care about your wellbeing seem to think it is in your best interests not to know.

"Er, OK," he said, getting to his feet. "I just think there's a long road ahead of me now. I do feel afraid – " he stopped speaking, and looked into the fire. "It's what I have to do. I'm the only one that can do it. Anyway, here," he said, handing Cecilia back her own encyclopaedia. "I've done the essay now." Cecilia shook her head.

"You keep it, Harry," she said. "I can get another when I return home. And besides, whoever your new muggle studies teacher is will be impressed with your knowledge of scientists, no doubt about that." She stopped and picked up the book, flicking through it to "L", not registering the look Harry gave her.

"I've only worked out the link between muggles and wizards," she continued, scanning the pages. "It's not solved yet. I still don't know who Raymond Lully was, only what his connection is here. He's related to Sirius, did I tell you?" She looked up and was startled by Harry's intense stare. "I would love to know what he has to do with all of this."

"You're leaving, Cecilia? Mrs Frobisher, I mean? You won't be teaching us anymore?" Cecilia shook her head, and got to her feet, reaching for her cardigan that was on the back of a chair and putting it on. She nodded.

"But, I thought you were going to stay to help Professor Snape? I mean," he looked away and flopped onto a chair. "If it's just Professor Snape with the potion, and I have to take it…I mean…" he stopped. Cecilia gave him a pitying look.

"I'll be here until the end of term. Then I will be returning home. By then, Professor Snape will have all information for the correct potion." She realised that Dumbledore and Snape were returning to the classroom.

"But," insisted Harry loudly as they crossed the flagstones and rejoined Harry and Cecilia; Snape and Harry exchanging a look of mutual mistrust.

"Is it going to be dangerous?" He continued. Cecilia was about to answer when Dumbledore raised a hand.

"Harry, I will not lie to you." Dumbledore stood amongst them and spoke slowly and patiently to the young wizard. "The work is very risky. I have just discussed the magical aspect of the potion that will be made. There is a strong possibility that once you take the first potion that inhibits your ability to perform magic, the second one will not reverse the effects. Now, Professor Snape has assured me that the correct procedure for a novel potion will be carried out as regards safety. But you need to be aware, Harry, that the risk you take with the new weapon is real, and adverse effects may befall you."

Silence reigned for what seemed like an eternity. Harry looked at Snape, and then back at Dumbledore. Eventually he nodded.

"I know," he said, looking at Dumbledore intently. "I've always known it would be dangerous. But if I don't take the potion, and we don't take the chance…I don't think I could live with the fact that I could have done something." Dumbledore nodded slowly. Cecilia's heart grew lighter, for she was convinced that he would say he did not want to take the risk. Snape stood stock still, staring frostily at Harry.

"But – " he looked at Cecilia this time. "Mrs Frobisher, can I speak to you?" Cecilia looked at Dumbledore and Snape, thrown by Harry's request to speak to her.

"Do you wish to speak confidentially? Shall we step outside?" Harry nodded, and led the way.

"Mrs Frobisher," said Harry, when they were in dimly lit classroom corridor. "I wanted to ask you…"

"I'll still be leaving at Christmas," said Cecilia, shaking her head. Harry looked at her and shook his own.

"No, that's not what I was going to ask. There's going to be a Yule Ball here on Christmas Eve. Everyone enjoyed it so much last year, well me and Ron didn't, but must of us did, that's why there's going to be another one. If you're still here, Ron would like to know if you'd go to it with him?"

"Sorry, Harry?" Cecilia blinked. What was he talking about? "What do you mean?"

"There's going to be a ball. We had one last year, the Yule Ball, and we're having another this year." He stopped, as if explaining it slower was going to help.

"You're still going to be here then, aren't you, Mrs Frobisher?" Cecilia nodded. It would be the last teaching day. Her last day at Hogwarts.

"Ron was going to ask you himself, but as you said you were leaving, I wanted to check so when he asked you, and if you said no, it wasn't because you didn't want to go with him, it was because you wouldn't be here. And it wouldn't be inappropriate as you wouldn't be our teacher any more," he finished, looking at her earnestly. Cecilia looked at Harry in disbelief, eventually she spoke.

"Are you asking me to go, as a partner to Ron Weasley, to the Yule Ball?" Harry nodded. Cecilia shook her head, and smiled, trying not to laugh at the preposterous idea.

"Please tell Ron, Harry, I am flattered by his invitation, but it would indeed be inappropriate. As of the end of Christmas Eve I would still officially be a teacher at Hogwarts, for a start. And second, I'm almost twice his age." Harry nodded.

"Okay, I'll tell him," said Harry, quietly. "But just so you know, Mrs Frobisher, you're the best muggle studies teacher we've ever had, and I'll miss you too."

"Same goes for students," said Cecilia. "But I'm not gone yet. I've still got the quidditch friendlies to go to before then," she added. "You'll be playing, won't you Harry?" He nodded, then looked at towards the door as it creaked open. Dumbledore stepped outside.

"I expect you'll be making your way to the Great Hall for supper, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. He nodded, smiling at Cecilia before turning and walking away. They watched him turn right and into the courtyard; Cecilia realising for the first time she would be

"You have made an impact on the students, it seems," said Dumbledore, chuckling. Cecilia laughed. "A crush, no less, from Mr. Weasley."

Cecilia laughed and looked at Dumbledore, who smiled at her again.

"And you will be a much missed member of staff, speaking for myself, of course. Now, perhaps if I could ask you to step back inside we'll Floo to the meeting from there." He held open the thick oak door and gestured with his left arm for her to enter. Cecilia stepped in and approached Snape who was reading through some papers on the bench by the potions, a cloud of trepidation growing in her mind: she'd forgotten they were going there! That Dumbledore had asked her to speak to the Order!

"So, we're going to Floo to Grimmauld Place?" asked Cecilia, looking at Snape, and trying to look happy about it. "Are we going now?"

"_You_ are," replied Snape, putting down the parchment. Cecilia could see he had written up the work they had carried out that afternoon already. "I, alas, have other duties which I must attend." Cecilia looked at him in horror. Not coming? She was counting on Snape to be there when she discussed the work. And not least as a guarantee that if she stuck with him all evening she would avoid having to speak to Sirius.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "I would be honoured to present the most distinguished Order member to the rest of her associates and friends myself. A privilege no other headmasters can acclaim," he added with sincerity. "Is that not correct, Severus?"

"Indeed not," he replied, glancing at Cecilia. "I believe you underestimate the significance of this, Cecilia, because of your natural aversion to praise. What you have done is so important that it defies anything that has gone before. All wizards will remember your name when the Dark Lord is defeated, and when the dark times are over."

Cecilia looked back at Snape, trying to hold back the tears of emotion. She had never heard him speak like that before. He had told her the truth, which she would barely admit to herself. And coming from Severus Snape…

"Won't you come with us?" she asked, trying not to sound desperate. "This is also your work, Severus. I will not let you deny it, and I believe you too have a duty to share it with the Order." Snape shook his head.

"Alas, I must avail you of your benevolent side, Cecilia, that you represent my contribution when you address the Order." Snape stopped and Cecilia could see his left arm twitch uncontrollably. How long had he been ignoring it, pretending the pain would go away?

"Of course," she turned to Dumbledore. "And of course I would be honoured to accompany the head of the Order." She smiled and Dumbledore held out his left arm.

"If you would step this way, Mrs Frobisher, and I will escort you to the Headquarters." He pulled out his wand, and waved it in the direction of the fireplace. Instantly, the orange embers were replaced with a green shimmering light. Cecilia swallowed in apprehension of the sickness she would feel very soon.

"You know," said Dumbledore, as they turned to look outwards at the potions classroom, "sometimes wizards take Flooing badly, too. Take my brother, for example. I remember a time, a hundred and twenty five years ago when he was so ill after travelling by Floo he had to spend almost a day in bed afterwards. Not a good illness to have when you work three hundred miles away from home, I'm sure you'll agree – " Cecilia closed her eyes briefly as Dumbledore waved his wand before them.

"…– and our father was not very happy to hear he'd given up his place at the Ministry because of it." Cecilia opened her eyes again as the image of the room turned green before them and, hearing Dumbledore's story about his brother vaguely on the edge of consciousness, she watched in horror as Snape dropped to his knees, buckling up in agony and grimacing in pain, gripped his lower arm.

The image faded before her eyes, and as the sickening feeling began to rise in her stomach it took all of Cecilia's willpower not to beg Dumbledore for them to return to Hogwarts…

88888888

…and now, nausea had been replaced by fear as she sat in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, just under six months since she had taken to her feet and decried the cowardice of muggles to the assembled wizards. Then, she had barely known any of them, and had spoken out, as she had seen the situation, claiming she would do what she could for them and, indirectly for muggles like her.

Now, at the end of her research, the answer lay before her, complicated, awkward, ill-fitting and above all, close to the bone. What she would say to these wizards would indeed make them think differently about muggles, and their status. It would also make some of them dislike her; a reaction not limited to wizards, of course.

But professionally she had never had to speak before a potentially semi-hostile group of people, especially when none amongst them had any experience of muggle science directly. They would have to trust her word.

"…three suspicious packages delivered to the Ministry." Kingsley Shacklebolt swallowed, and looked at Arthur Weasley. "We investigated, and discovered they belonged to three wizards living in a flat in the East End of London and contained their wands and hats…"

Cecilia gazed round the wizards, listening to the fifth Order member give his latest instalment of work from the ministry. She wrung her hands without thinking, and her mind drifted to what she must say, any minute now.

"…given the new directive following the Halloween debacle, seven new positions have been created in the department of…"

She looked at Kingsley, pretending to listen, but her mind raced, trying to focus on the main points that she would deliver and the questions she might be asked, trying not to stare absentmindedly at anyone in the packed kitchen as it rolled across her mind.

What if they asked her about genes? Or science for that matter? How could she explain to these wizards about its intricacy and ability to self-correct so that what came of it was more or less entirely true, and how would she react if they dismissed it?

"…and Arthur has made a note of it?" Dumbledore's voice penetrated Cecilia's thoughts, and she looked across at Mr. Weasley, hastily taking notes. She smiled in his direction; it had been he who had greeted her first, guiding her from Dumbledore and sitting her down in the kitchen, amongst the other Order members.

Mrs Weasley had pressed a cup of tea into her hands, and told her how delighted she was to see her again. Before she had a chance to speak to anyone else however, Dumbledore quickly called the meeting open, and began by discussing the Auror shifts which had, by all accounts, become muddled during November.

And now, as Dumbledore directed Arthur Weasley to note the Department of Artefacts' new employees, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"No need to be so nervous," she heard Sirius whisper. Cecilia froze as she felt his warm breath on her neck. "Rumour has it you've done something particularly clever and tonight we're going to hear about it," he added softly. She turned slightly, but stopped when she caught another face; that of Remus Lupin. Remus smiled at her gently before looking away, and to the centre of the group.

"Sirius," said Dumbledore, looking in her direction. "Mrs Frobisher, are you ready to discuss your findings?" Cecilia looked back at Dumbledore, and realised that every wizard assembled was looking at her. She nodded.

"Y-yes," Cecilia replied quietly, her mouth dry. "H-hm," she cleared her throat, and swallowed, getting to her feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, stepping forward and standing next to Dumbledore. He looked at her encouragingly before retiring to a chair just behind her.

"Ladies and gentlemen; fellow Order members," she continued. "It is with reservation that I stand before you this evening alone to discuss the work I s-started in July. P-professor Snape sends his apologies for his absence and has asked me to represent his c-contribution to this work." She noticed Dumbledore nod his head slowly in support of her last statement, and swallowed again in an attempt to regain her composure.

"Therefore what I tell you about this evening is a collaboration of muggle science and wizard magic. I do not claim credit for the discovery alone. Nor do I wish to, for what I have to say is of a universal link between muggles and wizards which does not belong to one person, but is a part of all of us." As she spoke, Cecilia felt more emboldened about what she was about to disclose. She nodded assertively around the room at the murmuring that had begun.

Where to now? She thought, as the wizards fell silent again, and returned to looking at her expectantly. Cecilia began to feel nervous again; here she was, before an audience where half of the wizards didn't want her there anyway the last time. Another who had tried murdering her too, before rescuing and kissing her. And another, who had insisted accompanying her back home, and had been a shoulder to lean on, smiling at her encouragingly. In fact the group of people here had interests were connected in more than one way to what she was about to say.

Concentrate, she told herself. You want the point to be heard. And Cecilia Frobisher put on her professional hat and proceeded to tell, not too succinctly and not too clearly, of the genetic link between muggles, and the implications for the successful research into an effective and safe potion for Harry.

"It is with thanks to many Order members here that I am standing here this evening, able to share this work with you. Each one of you knows who you are, and I won't embarrass you by saying what you've done. Sufficed to say, without you, the research would not be completed now, if at all…"

"…that is where we have got so far," she concluded, fifteen minutes later, looking round the kitchen again, swallowing uneasily. "As of this evening that is." Cecilia stopped, for there was nothing more to say. When no-one said anything, she smiled a little and was about to turn to Dumbledore when applause began. Arthur Weasley was on his feet, clapping furiously and grinning.

One or two others joined him; Cecilia saw Remus clapping too, and Tonks. And at the front, Benjamin Wergs was also applauding, though not as enthusiastically as Mr. Weasley. Cecilia smiled again, this time with more confidence and filled with a sort of happy calmness; all of her earlier nervousness had disappeared. Dumbledore stood up next to her, quelling the applause by waving his hands down. When there was near-silence, he surveyed the Order before looking at Cecilia, who could feel her cheeks flush with latent conspicuousness.

"Before I call for questions, I feel that it is necessary to state this, to all." Dumbledore scanned the room in an arc, looking at each wizard in turn. "The connection Mrs Frobisher and indeed Severus Snape have made is as yet, like a black curtain. One tiny breakthrough, like a ray of light has been made between muggles and wizards and though it is solitary, it is as firm as the foundations of everything that we hold dear. It is, as Mrs Frobisher stated, a Universal truth so fundamental to our world that the new weapon being developed in the form of the potion for Harry, is inextricably tied."

Cecilia noticed the expressions on the faces of some of the wizards before her change, as if the underpinning of her presentation by Dumbledore had made them rethink what they were about to say.

"Now, without further ado, Mrs Frobisher, are you prepared to take questions about the information you have just shared with us?" Cecilia nodded, and looked for any raised hands.

"Yes?" said Dumbledore, acknowledging Minerva McGonagall's raised hand. "Minerva?"

"Cecilia," said Minerva, nodding briefly in thanks to Dumbledore. "You have completed this work successfully, as you stated, so I hear, at the meeting of the sixteenth of July. Do you intend to see out the work to its conclusion? That is, to the development of the potion for Harry?"

Cecilia stopped, and looked back at Minerva. Of all the possible questions that had run through her mind since Dumbledore had insisted she present her findings at the Order meeting, this was one she had not prepared for.

"Er," she began, feeling stupid at stumbling over a simple question. "I, er, intend to stay till the end of term, at Hogwarts," she began, looking uncertainly at Dumbledore. "I hadn't actually…thought about it. I mean; Severus has as much understanding of this than I have, and as far as the finished potion is concerned, I can hardly make it myself, being a muggle…" Cecilia smiled as she heard a few chuckles of laughter.

"I have yet to discuss it," she said, looking at Dumbledore, "but will do all I can." She waited for Dumbledore to choose the question again, and he directed Bill Weasley to the floor.

"With respect, Mrs Frobisher, but are you certain of our findings?" It seemed like a popular question and the background noise rose to a dull roar. Dumbledore raised his hands again to call for quiet, and looked at Cecilia. She looked round the room, and her gaze rested for the first time on Sirius. 

"I am certain. Should anyone want a whistle-stop tour of genetics, please do ask. But not only that…" she paused. Lully. He was a wizard, and he had nearly got there. The credit was his, really. Had fate, circumstances, the Goblin Riots and so on, not got in the way.

"…a wizard almost got there, just over forty years ago. And had it not been for the Goblin Riots, he would have probably succeeded." She paused, and looked now at Remus. How much he had helped her, she thought. Unlike Sirius, who was full of noble action and sweeping deeds driven by emotion, Remus was reflective and thoughtful. He had been there for her when she needed…someone.

"So?" asked Roland Bentwick, an Auror sitting to her right. "What was his name?"

"Raymond Lully." It wasn't Cecilia who replied this time. Sirius Black was on his feet, and addressing the room.

"Apparently a relative of mine; distantly," he continued. "Am I right?" Cecilia nodded.

"But he died, during the Goblin Riots," continued Sirius, looking at Cecilia. "Am I right?" She shook her head this time. Sirius shot her a look.

"He was murdered," said Cecilia, as the attention was turned again to her. "Hagrid told me he was standing right next to him at the time. If anyone has any further information about him, I would be happy to hear it. However the point remains," she continued, determined to wrestle the conversation back to the relevant point. "A wizard worked with muggle scientists and came up with the same answer. That is, wizards are born and made. You can decide to be a wizard, or not." She looked at Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Just as you were describing this evening, Mr. Shacklebolt, with those three wizards voluntarily giving up magic" she added, before looking back at Dumbledore. Please don't let there be any more questions, she thought. Her heart sank as a hand raised at the back.

"Yes, Remus?" Dumbledore looked at Remus Lupin, who was looking at Cecilia. She smiled, waiting for the question.

"Do you…do you think you'd be able to get to the bottom of it all, given time that is?" He smiled weakly and Cecilia smiled back.

"Sorry, Remus," she replied a little confused. Sirius jerked his head in Remus's direction. "The bottom of what?"

"The link. Do you think, if you were to work with muggles again, you could solve the mystery entirely? Test other samples? Other variations in the genetics?" He looked directly at her now, and not at the rest of the Order. Why was he asking that, Cecilia wondered, when he knows I completed all the tests?

"Er, it is possible," she conceded, "but it depends on what question you might be looking for the answer to. I've looked at muggle and wizard genetics as you know, but – "

"No," interrupted Tonks, looking at Remus. "He means, you've only looked at a small sample of wizards, but what about other genetic variations? Is it foolproof?" Cecilia noticed Remus look urgently at Tonks. "Is it safe?" she added. Cecilia stopped, realising that he was asking that all along, in his own way.

"We – we're not certain. At the moment, all we can say is that we have a potion that is suitable, that will control the flow of magic energy. We will make it as safe as we can – " She looked around frantically at the growing noise again. Amongst them she could hear the wizards muttering.

"See?"

"It's not safe!"

"Muggle nonsense…"

"Sirius'll have something to say, no doubt…"

"SILENCE!"

The kitchen fell silent, at Dumbledore's behest. Cecilia saw that all eyes were on Dumbledore now; the head of the Order was addressing the room again.

"You are correct. The work is not safe. It is entirely dangerous. However, this will not detract from two points." Again, he looked at each wizard in turn; many lowered their gaze, and looked at the floor. Others, like Sirius, Remus and Tonks, stared at Cecilia.

"The first is that Harry Potter has agreed to co-operate at every stage of this work and feels that although he has reservations and fears, he must continue. He is compelled to, and as such is prepared to face whatever dangers either the potion, or Voldermort bring. The second," he looked back at Cecilia, "is that Mrs Frobisher came here this evening to inform each and every one of us of a Universal truth that exists between muggles and wizards. We are related, make no mistake on that score; this we know absolutely now. She should be celebrated for finding that link, no matter how uncomfortably it sits with many of you."

"Hear, hear," said Mrs Weasley, getting up from her seat. She held her teacup aloft, as she spoke, and the warmth in her eyes made Cecilia's heart warm.

"Mrs Frobisher, Cecilia. Well done!" She declared, and looked back at Arthur, who was smiling up at her.

"Yes," proclaimed Tonks, "three cheers for Mrs Frobisher, hip hip…"

"Hurray…"

"…hurray…"

"…hurrah…"

Cecilia smiled. Now she was finally relieved of the burden of this. She smiled at Dumbledore as she returned to her seat in front of Sirius, knowing that within the parchment Snape had given to him that morning, the proof was written, and could be kept and used for right.

"So, did you get all of that, Arthur?" asked Dumbledore, waiting for Mr. Weasley's enchanted quill to stop writing before he continued.

"Just on the second "hurray"," said Mr Weasley, glancing at the parchment. "Then we'll be with you."

Half an hour later, and the meeting finally ended. Cecilia was glad, not least because she could move away from Sirius, who'd insisted on whispering childish comments to her as the rest of the Order members scheduled to speak got to their feet, but because his warm breath on her neck by her ear was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable.

At the end of the meeting, two hours' later, Cecilia remained in her chair as the other wizards around her left the kitchen and headed into the living room. Many of them smiled in her direction, others waved, although others did neither, and walked out without acknowledgement.

So, she had done it, she thought when there was no-one else left in the room. She had addressed the Order, found out what they wanted to know and they were aware of the link now. All that was left was for Dumbledore to take her back to Hogwarts, so she could continue the work with Severus.

Severus. Now her mind was clear of her burden, the image of him doubled up in pain re-entered her mind, and Cecilia began to feel a longing to return now, to find out how he was.

She got to her feet, and felt a hand on her shoulder.

"You did well," said Sirius, as she turned to look at him. Hadn't he left? "I would have been nervous too, if I were in your position." Cecilia smiled as he moved behind her to sit next to her. Clearly not. She smiled in his direction, hoping he would leave her alone.

"So, are you joining us for a bite? Molly Weasley has spent all day cooking. I'm sure you won't want to miss out on homemade food." Cecilia nodded and got to her feet. Just concentrate on going back to Hogwarts, she told herself firmly. Do not, under any circumstances think about the night before your birthday…

"This way?" she said, pointing into the living room. Sirius nodded and followed her.

"Wow, you've managed to do…something with the living room. I didn't notice when I came in." Around her, the living room of twelve Grimmauld Place was, behind the tables of food, somewhat less black than she remembered it to be in the summer. The carpets looked as if they had been replaced and instead of the old (black) curtains the long windows were trimmed with chintz.

"Dumbledore found out an ancient spell that has done wonders." Molly Weasley crossed the carpet when she saw Cecilia, and handed her a plate. "Here, help yourself. There's plenty, and by the looks of it you need a good dinner inside you."

"Thank you, Molly," said Cecilia, graciously.

Glad to be free of Sirius's company, she headed to the end of the table and picked up a few sausage rolls. As she was reaching for a couple of cheese and pineapple on sticks, she realised she was standing next to Arthur Weasley.

"Cecilia," he said warmly. "I am so glad to see you looking so well. And so proud of you this evening, after everything you've done." Cecilia could feel herself blushing at the lavish praise Mr Weasley was heaping on her.

"No, Mr Weasley," said Cecilia, bashfully. "If it hadn't been for Tonks and Remus at the end of October; if it hadn't been for Harry and Ron helping me out last week; if it hadn't been for Dumbledore installing me as a teacher at Hogwarts; if it hadn't been for your hair too…" Cecilia noticed him look around urgently, checking the coast was clear.

"…I wouldn't have been able to do it. And Severus, of course. It is a shame he couldn't be here this evening; he put in a lot of effort too."

"I'm sure he did," said Mr Weasley, ushering her to one of the settees where Charlie was sitting, chatting to Bathsheba, "however without such a talented scientist, we wouldn't have it either. And my boys have been helping you out too?" Cecilia nodded. "That is so delightful to hear; especially after their October predicted grades came through; Molly hit the roof. Tell me," he said, sitting on the arm of the settee as Cecilia sunk down into one of the cushions, "is it…solid? Is it sound? The connection?" He saw a look cross her face as he spoke.

"I only ask, Cecilia, because…" Cecilia put a hand on his arm and smiled at Arthur Weasley, who was trying desperately not to offend her.

"The theory and practice, in so far as we have been able to ascertain is firm," Cecilia agreed, nodding. "As sound as Box Tunnel. Or a Brindley canal." she added, smiling as she used a comparison she knew Mr Weasley would understand and he nodded back in comprehension.

"Then we shall rejoice in the day that our grandchildren will be taught the Universal Link at Hogwarts…" he stopped in his exultation as Molly Weasley approached them.

"Cecilia," she asked, looking crossly at her husband, "is the food to your liking?" Cecilia looked at her plate; she hadn't touched anything on it yet.

"Lovely, Molly," she said, picking up one of the cheese and pineapple on sticks, and eating it. "I can't remember when I had such nice food." Molly sat down next to her, pushing Charlie further up the settee so she could sit next to Cecilia.

"Good," she nodded, "and the Black Forest gateau is particularly tasty," she added. "You do look thin, Cecilia," she continued maternally, unabashed. "Skipping meals, even if you are busy is never a good thing. Now, the elf-made porridge, if I recall, is particularly delicious, and especially on these cold mornings will set you up a treat."

"Molly," complained Arthur Weasley. "Surely it is up to Cecilia to decide what she does and does not want to eat?" Molly gave him a Look, and Arthur looked hard at a cheese and cucumber triangular sandwich on his plate before picking it up and taking a big bite out of it.

"Cecilia dear," continued Mrs Weasley, "I think it's marvellous what you have done, I have to ask, though..." she paused, and Cecilia looked at her, waiting for her to continue. "Its not…unnatural… is it? Not muggle medicine? Only you said you needed blood?" A look of concern crossed her face and Mrs Weasley looked at her husband suspiciously.

"In the end, they changed the way they did it, Molly," said Mr Weasley. "Am I correct in saying that you used hair instead?" He looked quickly at Cecilia, who nodded in confirmation.

"So," continued Molly, giving her husband another look, warning him not to interrupt again, "Are the children well? Are they safe? How are Fred and George? Are they working hard? How about Ginny? And Ron? Is he doing the work you set?"

"All perfectly well," said Cecilia, "and I am particularly impressed with the work from the twins, and Ron in muggle studies. The twins are particularly gifted in humour, Mrs Weasley, I expect you're very proud of their talent. And I can see that their keen interest in muggles runs in the family." She turned to Mr Weasley, who smiled back, clearly relishing the praise. Before Molly Weasley could say anything to match the expression on her face, Tonks came over to them.

"Cecilia!" she exclaimed, taking her by the hand and pulling her off the sofa. "Haven't seen you since we went back to your house, in October!" Cecilia looked apologetically at Molly Weasley and her legs followed the rest of her as Tonks pulled her in the direction of the stairs.

"Got you out of there just in time," Tonks continued, pointing in the direction of Mr and Mrs Weasley. Mrs Weasley was patently ignoring her husband, turning to her son Charlie to speak to loudly about the merits of achieving high grades in magical subjects, as opposed to muggle studies.

"So, how are you?"

"Tired," admitted Cecilia. "But relieved. I'm so glad to be finished it, if I'm honest."

"So you're going to be going home soon, then?" Cecilia thought she caught a pang of disappointment in Tonks's voice.

"I suppose so," she replied. "I've done the science; it's going to be up to Severus to come up with the potion." Cecilia's mind drifted to the potion that they were making that evening.

"You don't seem so sure," said Tonks, looking at her. "I think you want to stay. And I think you want to see it through." Cecilia looked back at her.

"In my heart, it would be good to know that my work has contributed to defeating Voldermort. But I can't stay in the wizard world forever. And besides, I promised my family and my friends I'd be back for Christmas." Tonks nodded.

"But we can still keep in touch, though," Cecilia added. "Unless Dumbledore uses a memory charm and I forget everything that's happened in the last six months, I'll still know who you are." She sighed.

"What's wrong, Cecilia?" asked the younger woman, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I thought you'd be much happier with the outcome of this work than you are." Cecilia smiled slowly.

"I am, Tonks," she said. "I just…I don't know. I wish I could get to the bottom of all of this. There's more than just this Universal connection between muggles and wizards." Her eyes became animated, as she spoke and Tonks sat her down on the stairs.

"For a start," Cecilia continued, "Raymond Lully. He's related to your family, he was in the ministry for a time and he was murdered during the Goblin Riots. And there is a strange reference to a "reciprocator", which I still don't understand. Surely someone that's done so much in his life would be more renowned. And yet, it's took me months to track down even the simplest piece of information."

"Another thing is Remus's book. I got the Universal connection from that; energy, light and magic. How is it that a book hundreds of years old with fairy tales in it had the very answer I was looking for, and was written before Raymond Lully. And…" she stopped. Tonks looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"…one or two other things, random things," Cecilia finished weakly, as the name Joseph Black appeared in her mind. "Including if we have everything right for the potion. But as far as I go, I've done what I was employed to do. I've solved the mystery and now we all know we are related by energy." She smiled weakly, feeling that now, having been freed of the burden of the elusive mystery, that was that for her in the wizard world.

"Did I ever tell you I think you're very brave," said Tonks, patting Cecilia on the shoulder again. "After everything you've manage to achieve in the last few weeks. Whenever you do return to the muggle world I don't think anything will stop you from investigating all of this anyway." Tonks looked at Cecilia again, then lowered her head towards her. "What about if –" she stopped, looking up from Cecilia.

"Excuse me, Tonks," said Remus, looking at Cecilia. "I was wondering whether I could speak to Mrs Frobisher for a moment. I've spoken to Professor Dumbledore and I volunteered," he added cryptically. Tonks looked between Cecilia and Remus before jumping to her feet.

"Sure," she said, her hair changing from sombre brown to fuchsia pink. "See you later," she added, and made her way back to the buffet table. Remus watched her go before sitting down on the stairs next to Cecilia.

She watched his face crease up with concentration before turning to her and smiling. How exhausted he looked, thought Cecilia. And much older than the night he escorted her to Hogsmeade village to catch the Knight Bus. Maybe not older, she reconsidered, maybe just immensely careworn, with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Before she had a chance to ask what he had volunteered for Remus looked Cecilia in the eye.

"I hope you did not take my query this evening the wrong way, Cecilia. I did not intend to question your work and its safety. I do not believe for a single moment you would put Harry in danger." His blue eyes twinkled as he spoke, and Cecilia's heart began to soften.

"It was an open forum Remus; you were free to ask what you liked. But I am glad you said what you did. It gave others a chance to air their concerns."

"But I am not concerned," he replied, looking at her carefully. "I was attempting to broach the subject which you mentioned to me when we were at your former place of work. That of a genetic sample of Harry's mother." Cecilia rewound her mental images to that night; of a cold autumn air tinged with frost, and Remus outside looking for her. Yes, she thought. I did mention it. I said it would make the process more straightforward.

"It doesn't affect the result from the science-magic relationship," Cecilia replied, "though it would have helped to solve the puzzle quicker. But to make sure the potion that Severus makes is close to perfect then yes, it would be valuable to have one. It would make the results more accurate." She swallowed. "Whatever Dumbledore's plans are, the closer the potion is to Harry's own magical energy, without his mother's genes overshadowing the results, the more effective it will be. I'm not speaking of safety now," she added. Remus nodded.

"I understand. I must say," he continued, "I don't think I would be brave enough to do what you did this evening. It took a lot of courage to speak to us all tonight. I mean it," he insisted, as Cecilia tried to quell his praise by waving her hand in his direction. He took it, and held onto it.

"I mean it," he repeated. "You came here, alone, to a place where you were injured last time. Don't tell me that hadn't crossed your mind." Remus looked at her again, and Cecilia dropped her head. Actually, she hadn't considered it, since she had made up with Sirius, but standing with the other Order members had made her feel very vulnerable.

They stopped talking for a moment. Cecilia looked at Remus, his face still etched with concern; his pale eyes shimmering in the light.

"There's something I need to tell you," Remus said eventually. But not here." He got to his feet and began to make his way up the stairs. Cecilia got up too and followed him mutely.

Remus walked along the first floor corridor and to the end, turning left. Cecilia realised it was much darker here than the rest of the house, and began to feel a little uneasy. As she followed him to the right, she realised that actually, it wasn't the darkness that was making her feel un-nerved, it was the absence of the previous owner shrieking at her for her to be gone from her house.

Suddenly, Remus stopped and placed his hand on the handle of the door. He looked back at Cecilia before leaning on the handle.

"Much better," he said, opening the creaking door quietly. Cecilia followed him into a dimly-lit study. It ad the feel of an eighteenth-century gentleman's room; the walls were lined with books in oak shelves and in the centre of the room, two wing-backed chairs sat at angles to one another with a small low table, also in oak between them.

"So," Cecilia said, looking round at the books on the shelves, dusty and ancient. "What do you need to tell me?" Remus looked at her sharply, then softened, gesturing towards one of the chairs.

"Lumos," he said. "I wish we could get the lighting sorted out in here," he added, sitting in the other. Wall sconces flickered into light at his spell, illuminating the room with golden candlelight. Cecilia turned in her chair to speak to Remus again when he began to speak.

"Tonight, just before you arrived, the Order voted unanimously that you should be aware of what I am about to reveal to you. We felt that, as a member too, and also because you are a muggle, we could not keep it from you."

"On Halloween," he continued, still looking at her, "Voldermort launched an attack on muggles. He used a form of magic that was dangerous and devastating, which resulted in the deaths of…hundreds muggles across Britain." His voice was slow and calm and Cecilia tried to remember the time when she had heard it before.

But before her mind could consider it, Cecilia felt her heart sink as she ran over the information. Hundreds of muggles. She tried to get to her feet, but the muscles in her legs would not let her stand. She looked back at Remus and felt her brow buckle.

"When you say hundreds…who were they? How?" Even as she spoke she knew she sounded pitiful, but the images that Tonks had which she had seen of the man and his daughter dying in agony on the top of the multi-storey car park filtered into her mind.

"Almost eight hundred," said Remus. "There was no apparent pattern. It happened all over the country, and the victims were of all ages. There's never been more than a dozen on Halloween; it was totally unprecedented. Muggle-baiting…" he added, stopping when he saw the look of horror on Cecilia's face.

"Muggle-baiting." Cecilia repeated, shaking her head firmly and pushed herself out of the armchair. Her legs felt shaky and she could feel a tide of nausea wash over her. She took a few steps towards the window, becurtained with black drapes, folding her arms and trying to come to terms with what Remus was saying.

"It shouldn't be called muggle baiting," Cecilia said after a while, addressing the window. "That implies that muggles are vermin to be killed for sport. It should be called what it is…" Time passed as her mind ran over the information Remus had given to her. "…genocide…" she finished quetly.

Hundreds of muggles. Not one or two, but whole streets. Young children, girls and boys. Young people, teenagers, pensioners. Could have been anyone. Could have been… Just then she felt Remus's soft hand on her right arm and Cecilia turned and looked at him in the eye. 

"W…was there anyone…from Edgeford…. – " she stopped, faltering over the question she both wanted to ask, but didn't want to know the answer to, if it was one that was going to be unbearable.

"…murdered?" Remus's face didn't move, but he began to rub her arm, comfortingly.

"No," he said firmly. Cecilia's body began to untense and she turned to look at Remus.

"Thank you for telling me," she said, finally. "Thank you for volunteering. It means a lot, coming from you." Cecilia smiled in gratitude, and tears sprang to her eyes. Not tears of anything in particular,

"Would you like to be alone for a while?" Remus took a few steps away from her, and stood next to the coffee table. Cecilia nodded. No shame in it, she told herself. I'll regain my composure and go back down then, she thought, feeling the tears flowing much easier now.

Cecilia was grateful when Remus said nothing else, but left her in the room alone. She stepped towards the chair she had been sitting on a few minutes ago and leaned back in it; allowing her tears to fall unashamedly down her cheeks.

Muggle baiting. People over the whole country randomly struck down by Voldermort. No-one from Edgeford. Not Mum or Amy. Not Libby or Derek or Freya. As the tears dripped onto her trousers, she aimlessly wiped her hands across her face.

Why had this happened? It's got to stop, she thought firmly, otherwise, someone she loved would get killed. Harry's got to stop this, using the potion. As she thought about her research again, and the new weapon, Cecilia's mind began to work pragmatically, which it was wont to do when she was feeling emotional.

She could go, she thought. Severus has everything we need. If he doesn't, he will be able to sort it out.

But what if he can't, a little voice in her head whispered into her cerebellum. What if he ends up struggling with his commitment to being Dumbledore's spy? Like this evening? Cecilia shuffled in the chair and slipped off her shoes, pulling her knees up to her chest and holding them as she thought.

And if I stay to the end, what's to say I'm actually going to make a difference? Draco Malfoy thinks I'm a squib, and nearly killed me then. I'll have to carry on doing what I'm doing and keep my head down. And what will I be able to do more than I already have done? The library is exhausted, and none of the teachers are likely to be able to tell me about Joseph Black, Raymond Lully or anything else.

Cecilia's mind rested on Joseph Black. Surely it couldn't be a coincidence that the Joseph Black mentioned in Draco's diary and the one in her encyclopaedia had the same birth and death dates.

Her mind fixed on the face in the picture, monochrome and sour, but with hints of family resemblance. Were they one and the same person? Yet Joseph Black of the diary had, by the look of it been entrenched in the whole doctrine of pure blood and nobility and the scientist Joseph Black had made progress in the modern steam engine; a contemporary of James Watt.

"There's more to this," said Cecilia aloud, as her tears reduced to intermittent sobs and she looked around the room she was sitting in.

"There has to be…"

"Er, are you talking to me?" Cecilia looked round in alarm when she realised she was being spoken to.

"Who's there?" she asked, looking round and getting to her feet. She looked at the door, but it was shut to, just the way Remus had left in ten minutes ago. "Remus?" she added, hoping that it was someone, at least, and she wasn't going slightly mad.

"Phineas Nigellus," intoned the voice. Where was it coming from, thought Cecilia looking round.

"Over here," came the voice again, sounding slightly bored, but also irritated. "Above the fireplace," it added, dolefully. Cecilia stopped her search for the voice around the bookshelves and turned. Above the fireplace hung a picture of an old wizard, black hat and very old, thin face to match the thin, reedy, creaking voice. She smiled.

"Hello," said Cecilia, wiping the last of her tears away from her cheek and stepping now away from the books near the window to the fireless hearth. "I – I've seen you before, I think…" she tilted her head sideways, trying to remember where.

"I hang," intoned Phineas, "on the wall in young Dumbledore's office. Maybe it is there? During the frequent occasions my successor in his wisdom has permitted your presence there, such as this morning?" Cecilia's expression changed to one of semi-comprehension; Phineas's tone of bored sarcasm lost on her.

"…yes…" said Cecilia, smiling. "You were a headmaster…and…so why are you here?"

"This is my house," replied Phineas. "Phineas Nigellus. "And you are the muggle that the last of my line has not been able to remain silent about for months." Cecilia closed her mouth feeling foolish. The last of his line? Sirius? Then a thought struck her.

"Er, Phineas?" she asked tentatively, her thoughts beginning to race. "May I call you that?"

"You…may," Phineas Nigellus intoned, looking over his spectacles as if ceding for the very last time to a muggle.

"When Professor Dumbledore made me a teacher of muggle studies at Hogwarts, you all, the portraits of the previous headmasters and headmistresses should I say, agreed to help me if I needed it." Cecilia paused and despite herself, lowered her head and spoke quietly.

"Indeed we did," replied Phineas. "Though I will add that any assistance I afford to you will be only because I am compelled to; being a headmaster at Hogwarts means that one owes a certain loyalty to the present one, however misguided."

"It is about the work Dumbledore is doing," Cecilia added, making sure Phineas was absolutely clear that what she was about to ask fitted into that category. "I need to find out about an ancestor of Sirius's…and yours." She looked expectantly at the portrait.

"Oh yes?" Phineas gave Cecilia a sidelong glance, or at least as sidelong as a two-dimensional portrait can. "And who might that be?" Cecilia shifted from one foot to another.

"Joseph Black," she replied, smiling a little. Phineas stared back at her. Eventually he spoke.

"The first Black. 1728 to 1799. Curor in Potenta. No power without blood." He glanced at the shelves over on the opposite walls. "Well, I would say that you could look in the family diaries, but it would seem young Sirius has disposed of them. Now, why would a muggle want to know about Joseph Black? His methods are well out of favour in wizard circles these days, girl." Cecilia turned back from the vacant floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves.

"I…I think he's got something to do with the work we've been doing, at Hogwarts," she replied, looking back earnestly. "What do you mean, the first Black?"

"The first Black," said Phineas. "The first to declare muggles to be vermin and that true power lay in the spilling of as much blood as possible. The originator of the Noble Houses." Cecilia gaped as he spoke odiously and expressionless. She swallowed.

"So, the motto," she said, ignoring Phineas's comments. "No power without blood…"

"Joseph Black," said Phineas. "He introduced the Family Tree for pureblood wizards. Those who were pure and wished to keep their lineage so made sure all pure and noble families did the same, to ensure no mud could enter the pure rivers of wizardkind. Quite right too, in my opinion."

"Phineas," said Cecilia pushing on before her mind realised what she was doing and stopped her. "What made him take such a line against muggles? Did anything happen while he was a scientist?" Cecilia swallowed, looking back at Phineas in his frame carefully. A look of incomprehension passed over Phineas's face and his brow wrinkled.

"What?! What is it you mean by this?" he snapped, looking annoyed. "Muggle, Joseph Black did the greatest service to wizardkind when he organised purification, and now those that still believe his teachings are sought after and will be killed using whatever it is you have been working on. The modern age, so I am to understand it, according to young Dumbledore. Now, I will leave you. Search in as many books as you please for whatever it is you require, that's if there are any left. Good day!"

And with that, Phineas Nigellus froze in his frame and faded from animated bright colours to dull, sombre pigments.

"Hello?" said Cecilia, stepping nearer to the frame, then looked round at the bookshelves in the room when she realised Phineas had actually left. He must have taken offence at her curiosity, thought Cecilia as she walked slowly across the Persian-design carpet which lay across the oak floorboards towards the empty shelves.

And I didn't get a chance to ask him about Raymond Lully, she thought as she looked at the spaces where Phineas had just told her the Black family diaries had been and cursed her misfortune again that Sirius had got rid of them; they would have been extremely useful if bizarre.

Just then, a book on the shelf next to the empty one caught her eye. The title was written in gold, embossed on the dark blue spine. "Ye Auld Magick", it read, and its thick spine jutted out a little from the shelf.

"OK Phineas," said Cecilia aloud, "I'll search as many books as I like," and she glanced to her right, past "Ye Auld Magick" to the rest of the books on the shelves. There might still be something about Joseph Black in one of them.

I'll start with this one, thought Cecilia, placing her hand on it. Close to it actually, for when she tried to remove it from the shelf she found that it was stuck, as if superglued to the shelf.

"Damn," said Cecilia, annoyed and turned to Phineas's dull frame. "So I suppose you don't mind me looking at any of these as long as I can get them off the shelves, then!"

Giving up on "Ye Auld Magick" she scanned the shelves, testing a few for their fixedness. One or two seemed wedged, though not stuck though one shot sparks at her as Cecilia moved her hand in front of it and she jerked her arm away from it, shocked.

"Hmp!" she huffed and gave Phineas's portrait before crossing back over the carpet and looking at the books on the opposite shelves. One title caught her eye and Cecilia tentatively pulled," Two Hundred Years of Glorious Purity" off the shelf….

…and was still standing facing the bookshelves as she read over the three pages for the fifth time and yet again that evening Cecilia's mind endured further marvellous, shocking and potentially dangerous information which, while explaining some things, posed further questions.

It would seem that Joseph Black of the family Black had a daughter, Honoria who had fallen in love with a muggle. In order to prevent her from marrying the man, Joseph had swept through tough legislation proposals within the Wizengamot; an assembly which Cecilia knew to be akin to a parliamentary house.

Amongst those proposals condemned muggle-born wizards and squibs to carry fake wands so they could be distinguished amongst a crowd. In addition, they were stripped of bank accounts with contents of over ten thousand galleons, lest they foolishly decided to use them solely in the muggle world, thus impoverishing wizards in the years to come. And thirdly he proclaimed that for purity of the wizard world, pure blood marriages were the ideal.

By the sounds of it, Joseph Black was not supported wholly in the parliament, but he carried on pushing his reforms through influential friends and supporters, by force and also by intimidation until finally they became laws.

"Just to bring his daughter into line," Cecilia thought aloud. But then, it's never just, is it? I bet this wasn't the first time purity and nobility and blood were first proclaimed superior. Cecilia lowered the still-open book and looked back up at Phineas's portrait.

"And that attitude of yours, Phineas," said Cecilia, her eyes filling with tears again, "caused people to die! Innocents!" She closed the book quickly and reshelved, resisting the urge to throw it on the floor angrily. Then she walked over to the window and looked out of it, down onto the back streets of Grimmauld Place and the street adjacent, moving up her left arm to wipe her face again. Just then she felt a hand touch her gently on the shoulder.

"Remus told me you were here." Sirius walked round to her left and looked at her, his dark tempestuous eyes staring directly into hers. "He told me he had volunteered to tell you the news about Halloween." Cecilia nodded, wiping her face with her arm again and took a step back from him.

"I came to see how you are," he continued, looking at the space where Cecilia hadn't replaced the book quite as she had found it. "And it's a good job that I did; you've been in our world long enough to know that you should never turn your back on anything. Looks like I was just in time; some of these are lethal!" Cecilia smiled, and Sirius returned it.

"He did," said Cecilia. "And it made me reconsider what I need to do now. I hope you don't mind; I was looking for further information about someone who's quite intriguing."

"Not at all," replied Sirius, taking her by her shoulder and ushering her away from the shelves. "You were very lucky not to have come to harm," he added, glancing at the books. They glistened in the candlelight. "Some of these have quite a sting. However you won't find anything about Lully; believe me, Moony and I have been through them all at least half a dozen times."

Cecilia stood next to the chair in which she had sat just now and hesitated, looking quickly at the door. Sirius followed her glance.

"That was a brave thing you did tonight," he said, his eyes twinkling as he looked Cecilia in the eye before sitting in the chair Remus had occupied three quarters of an hour earlier. "You looked very nervous." Cecilia nodded, sitting down in the chair and looking down.

"I was," she admitted. "It was a bit of a surprise from Dumbledore that I was coming here. And…public speaking…I don't like it, usually."

"But you're a teacher," said Sirius, grinning. "You stand up in front of children for six hours a day and speak. How can you not like public speaking when you do it for a living?"

"Teaching's not the same as presenting," explained Cecilia. "When you are a teacher you know that at least they have to a certain extent got to listen to you and do what you ask. And you also know that they know something. Here in your world…well you heard the questions, even through they were managed by Dumbledore. Even Remus asked me about safety."

"Well, at least that's going to be a weight off your mind," said Sirius, looking at her again. "At least the work is in Severus Snape's safe hands," he added and the expression in his voice reminded Cecilia of the rivalry she had seen in Mineva's memory, of the young rival wizards at school.

"Absolutely," said Cecilia, rallying to Snape's defence. "He knows as much as I do about the muggle-wizard connection and with his skills in potion-making I'm sure it won't take very long for him to come up with the potions." Sirius nodded slowly.

"It looks like it's working out to plan, then," he said. "And a happy day it will be when Voldermort is defeated, although I can't say I am pleased about the risk Harry is going to be taking, even if you do say that it will be minimal. Tea?" He pulled out his wand and waved it across the low table. Cecilia looked between the cups and Sirius and the long-buried thoughts of the summer flooded her mind like an unexpected wave at the beginning of high tide.

"N…not just at the moment," she replied, getting up from her seat. "I was wondering Sirius, you have an extensive collection of books here, and your ancestor, Phineas, " she gestured to his lifeless portrait, "was filling me in on some of the details of your family. Although I couldn't find anything of significance about Raymond Lully. I hope you don't mind my looking," she added.

"Not at all, again," said Sirius, putting down his unsipped tea. "You just asked me that, Cecilia," he reminded her.

"Your ancestor, Joseph Black," said Cecilia, moving towards the book that Sirius had reshelved correctly. "He seems to have been behind quite a bit of anti-muggle legislation in the late eighteenth century. And because of his daughter's interest in a muggle." She took the book from the shelf and opened it to the appropriate page. Sirius crossed over to look at the pages she had opened.

"Joseph Black?" he asked looking between the book and Cecilia. "I thought you were interested in Raymond Lully. What's Joseph Black got to do with any of this?" Cecilia shook her head.

"I don't know, Sirius," she said. "It's just that his name, and dates of birth and death have appeared in three very separate places, connecting science, Lully, your family, "Mysterious Mythology". I just know there's something more to this than what I've found out, and I'm determined to get to the bottom of it before I go home for good. Is there anything more you can tell me, Sirius, that might help the work? To help towards Harry's potion being the best we can make for him?" Sirius said nothing, but took the book from her and reshelved it again, then returned to his chair.

Cecilia watched as Sirius stared at the fireplace, the look of impetuosity, pride and overconfidence all but draining from him as he stared. Eventually Cecilia crossed back crouched by him.

"If it will help Harry," said Cecilia, "please tell me." Sirius continued to stare at the fireplace, still unlit, and she wondered whether she had crossed yet another invisible line.

Cecilia was about to get up but Sirius turned his head to look at her, his eyes red as if trying to hold back tears.

"My accursed family has been nothing but a blight on my life. They have ruined everything that I held dear, and not just my parents. My ancestors through their ways. Joseph Black with his reforms, as you say. Alphard Black, have you heard of him?" Cecilia shook her head mutely.

"You'd love him, Cecilia. A wonderful relative of mine who would bait muggles and then, instead of killing them, would use them for…experimentation. Revived the long-forgotten anti-muggle laws and traditions during the nineteen twenties, those which Voldermort found ever so appealing and fitting for his cause." Sirius held onto the arms of the chair, his fingers splayed as if, were he to let go, he would not be responsible for his angry actions.

"My glorious family. The Noble House of Black. Curor in Potentia. Why?" he shouted in Cecilia's direction making her jump. "Why was I made to learn about him and his honourable deeds? Why must I be a part of all of this? Why is my life blackened like my name?" He got to his feet and leaned walked towards the fireplace, leaning his elbow on it and looking at the wall.

"But you are not like them," said Cecilia, when Sirius had stopped talking bitterly to himself. "I can't see that you are, not now I've got to know you. It's understandable that you want to protect Harry; any Godfather would. But it is for Harry that I wish to know; what Dumbledore is pressing for will happen in any case, and I don't think you'd be able to stop it." She stopped in the process of getting to her feet as he shot her a look.

"Cecilia, you intend to return back to the muggle world. And you intend to do so by Christmas. I would urge you to do just that, for any information you seek, whether within Hogwarts or without, will put you in more and more danger as the time to use the new weapon approaches. Even here you risk death, even with the Order downstairs." Cecilia looked at him.

"Oh yes?" she laughed. "How is that? From your violent books? Or do you have a house elf you've not told me about who is under a blood deed on your word?" She smiled, and Sirius smiled too.

"I have something for you," Cecilia continued, reaching into her trouser pocket. She didn't know why she had kept it there; to stop Snape from finding it she could easily have thrown it away. Cecilia pulled out the remains of the hair he had given to her that morning, the morning of her birthday. She walked over to him and placed it on the mantelpiece.

"I would not have been able to get to the correct answer if it hadn't been for this." She looked between it and back at Sirius, who was staring at it. "Your genetics played an important role in this, and no matter what you say, how much your family have ruined your life, what made them them has also made for the downfall of their beliefs." Sirius's eyes met hers and as she withdrew her hand he took it. Cecilia felt her heart begin to beat faster as he pulled her closer.

A grown woman shouldn't behave like this, a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her sharply, but it was soon silenced by bigger, wieldier voices trampling it to death and Cecilia's mind was filled with that autumn morning with the sun glinting through the long passage under Hogwarts.

"You believe in science," he said quietly. "Is that what's keeping you going, when things get difficult?" Cecilia shook her head.

"Science isn't a belief. It's a way of perceiving the world. And even though it's difficult to change the way you think about things, sometimes, in the face of evidence, like tonight, you have to, which means you have to change the way you look at other things as well."

"Such as…" Sirius moved his face closer to Cecilia, his onyx eyes glittering in the candlelight and she felt her pulse rate quicken by her ears, pounding and rhythmical.

"Other people," she said, looking. "That voice in your head that tells you different when you are convinced that each person you know cannot be any other way, and they change. A belief in the impossible."

"I believed in something once," said Sirius, taking a step away from her and walking back over to the window. "I believed that I would marry a beautiful witch and teach my children to fly their first broom. Then when that wasn't to be, I believed I would always have Lily and James, and that our Auror work would always ensure that the villains wouldn't get away with it."

"You were an Auror?"

"Don't sound so surprised," said Sirius, turning to Cecilia. "I was one of the best, at the time. The Ministry only takes the best. I believed in justice." He stopped.

"I still believe in it," said Cecilia quietly. "It's just not balanced justice. You have to do what you can for the greater good."

"Remus," said Sirius, looking at her. "That's one of his sayings. The greater good. After all he's been through, I wouldn't be so pragmatic."

"That's Remus," said Cecilia, half to herself, and caught Sirius's narrowing glance. "From what I can see. He always appears to take the down-to-earth approach."

"At least he can," said Sirius. "All I can do is offer this old place out for the Order. I'm stuck here until Voldermort is defeated, and my name is cleared."

"Another reason to carry on Sirius," she said, smiling at him. "Well, at least until Christmas and maybe I can unravel the secrets Raymond Lully and Joseph Black. If you don't mind, at least," she added. Sirius shook his head.

"It may prevent another eight hundred muggles dying at the hands of Voldermort next year if what you plan is successful. Why should my godforsaken family stand in the way of that? They are the cause of at least some of it to start with." Cecilia realised that Sirius was staring at her again and she broke the gaze, taking a few steps towards the door.

"I really must be going," she said. "I need to work out the best way to get back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore escorted me, but if I have a choice I think I'd rather not travel by Floo."

"It can take people that way," he conceded, crossing his father's study and placing his hand on the knob over hers. "So how is the old place? Has the Whomping Willow been burned down yet? How many points have Gryffindor won for Quidditch this year? Though I don't suppose you know what that game is, seeing as you are, after all, only a muggle." Sirius's eyes glinted mischief, and Cecilia realised the sad, bitter Sirius she had seen just now had been replaced by his old self.

"Indeed I do," retorted Cecilia, rising to the bait. "And I go and watch it, supporting the very best the school can field."

"And I suppose you support only the very best team there is to support," Sirius continued, a glint appearing in his dark eyes.

"Slytherin, of course," she replied, giving as good as she had got.

"Slytherin?! You support Slytherin?"

"Oh yes," said Cecilia airily. "Sitting between Crabbe and Goyle, with Severus scowling behind me." She grinned, waiting for Sirius to twig.

"So how are the children?" he continued, catching on and patently ignoring her last comment. "Harry, Hermione, the Weasley family? Are they well?" Cecilia nodded.

"And Hermione might even be happy once Ron has got over his infatuation with someone else, and they get together." Sirius smiled.

"So Hermione's in love with Ron? Phew! I'll take it she's not mooning over me, well that is a relief." Cecilia raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, well it is a good job she's refined her taste a bit, isn't it?" Cecilia remarked, provocatively. Sirius gave her a Look to rival that of Mrs Weasley. He turned the handle of the door, opening it to the cool draught of the second floor landing.

"If there's anything else I can for you, please just ask, Cecilia. I know what you are doing is for the best…"

"I don't know about that, Sirius. It's for the right. It's all I have at the moment." Sirius nodded. Their eyes met again, and Cecilia could feel her heartbeat beginning to quicken as she was drawn into his gaze.

"I'm glad to see you well," he added and leaned in towards her. Cecilia pulled back, dragging herself out of the trance and held out her hand. In surprise he shook it, firmly.

"Thank you Sirius," she replied, and could feel the blush travelling up her chest and onto her neck. "Well if you'll excuse me, I'll - go and…"

"Wait," said Sirius, taking a step towards her. Cecilia stopped and turned.

"If you are intent on staying until Christmas, we're having a party here, on Christmas Eve. All of the Order are coming and I just wondered if…but if you don't want to, I can understand…" Cecilia stopped, waiting for him to finish.

Just then Tonks appeared on the stairs to the left of Cecilia.

"There you are, Cecilia. Wotcher," she said, looking between Sirius and Cecilia. "Er…just to let you know, Sirius, Dumbledore wants a word before he leaves. He's just about to…"

"Oh, right," said Sirius, not taking his eyes off Cecilia. "I'd better go," he added, and smiled at Cecilia again before stepping between Cecilia and Tonks and heading downstairs. Tonks grinned.

"I was just talking to Sirius," said Cecilia, feeling the blush work its way up her face and add to the vibrancy of her hair when it reached her scalp "He was telling me about your family. Some of the more gruesome details, by the sounds of it. Upsetting himself rather a lot." Tonks nodded.

"All I can say, Cecilia is that I've never heard Sirius lost for words before. I suppose our family is enough to do that to anyone, especially what he's been through." Cecilia nodded and made to go downstairs too.

"Well, I suppose I'd better be getting back to Hogwarts," said Cecilia, stepping down onto the first step. "It's a shame that we haven't had much time to chat."

"Yes, Remus dragged you off here to tell you about…about…" she stopped and looked at Cecilia, lost for words.

"About the muggle murders on Halloween," finished Cecilia and the young witch nodded slowly, her purple spiky hair catching the light from the candle sconces.

"Why don't you stay here?" said Tonks, brightly. "I've got to go to work at six tomorrow; I can easily Floo you back to Hogwarts in the morning, then at least we've been able to catch up." Cecilia smiled happily, and nodded.

She followed Tonks down both flights of stairs, hurrying to keep up with her. As they got to the bottom of the second flight of stairs, into the living room, Cecilia noticed that most of the supper had gone, the plates and tables had vanished and more settees had been added to accommodate the twenty or so wizards who were still there.

As she stepped in between the throng, Tonks picked up speed and headed towards Dumbledore, who was engaged in conversation with Sirius and Bill Weasley near the door to the hall. Cecilia made to follow her but stopped as Mr Weasley, who had been busy talking to Sturgis Podmore, called her name.

"Cecilia, I've been speaking to Remus," he said, enthusiastically. "He tells me that you are still searching for information that will be of value to your work." Cecilia nodded, glancing past Mr Weasley at Tonks, who was speaking to Dumbledore now. She glanced back, giving Mr Weasley her full attention.

"Yes," she said. "I mentioned Raymond Lully," she began.

"Now Sturgis here," Arthur Weasley gestured to Podmore, who was standing to Cecilia's right. "He has some connections in the Ministry. We have been discussing how we can try to locate some information that might be some use to you –"

" – to help Harry – " said Sturgis, joining in the conversation.

" – he thinks he may be able to help you – "

" – although it may take some time," said Sturgis, twitching his moustache. Cecilia smiled at Sturgis.

"That would be very helpful indeed," said Cecilia, "especially after all the help you have already been."

"It is indeed an honour," said Sturgis, twitching his moustache again and Cecilia realised that if Sturgis had a bowler hat he would be mistaken for either Thompson or Tompson from the Tin-Tin books. He even talked like an accountant.

"So…Raymond Lully," continued Sturgis, pulling out a notebook and scribbling down the name. "Anyone else?"

"…yes," said Cecilia thoghtfully. "He was mentioned in the book I read in association with the word "reciprocator", but I don't know that one either. And "Oswald T." whoever he is."

"…Oswald T," said Sturgis, looking down at the notebook as he wrote. "Any others?"

"Oh – no," said Cecilia, pausing. Should she mention Joseph Black? She glanced up at Sirius. He had said he would be as much help as he could.

"No," said Cecilia. "One last name. Joseph Black, but he was a long time ago –"

"…1728 to 1799," finished Sturgis, flatly. "Everyone wants to know about him; it's a wonder you don't already know enough about him, being a muggle, and about the Auld Magic at Halloween," he continued in his south London accent. "But, nevertheless, I will endeavour to do what I can with this information and pass it onto Arthur without delay."

"Thank you, Sturgis," said Mr. Weasley, and turned from Podmore to Cecilia. "I hope that's going to be of some help, Cecilia."

Cecilia was about to answer when she noticed Tonks behind Mr Weasley, waving frantically and trying to get her attention.

"Excuse me, Mr Weasley," she said, "I think Tonks wants to speak to me." Arthur stood aside but before Cecilia had a chance to approach Tonks, she'd bounded in Cecilia's direction, grinning manically.

"I just spoke to Dumbledore," said Tonks. "Snape was going to take you back this evening, but he's happy to let me do that in the morning! Isn't that great?" Cecilia nodded.

"Yes, it's great," she replied. "I haven't a change of clothes though, nor a toothbrush…"

"Not to worry," said Tonks, "come up in about five minutes and I'll have sorted out everything you need. Just like you did when we stayed at your house," she added. "Though I can't promise you a Vellytision."

"Well, I'll have to make do with conversation, then," laughed Cecilia, "I'll just say goodnight and I'll be up."

"Right-oh," replied Tonks, and with that made her way merrily upstairs.

Cecilia looked past the groups of wizards again to where Dumbledore had just been Sirius would probably not care whether she stayed with Tonks that night, but it would be impolite not to just check with him anyway.

"Looking for Dumbledore?" asked Mrs Weasley, when Cecilia realised Dumbledore and Sirius were not where they had been just now, and not even in the room.

"I think they went into the kitchen," she continued, looking at the closed kitchen door. "Tonks seems delighted that you're going to stay."

"So am I," replied Cecilia, marvelling at the way in which Mrs Weasley never missed anything. "I do so love having Tonks as a friend, Molly," she added and Mrs Weasley smiled.

"Well, if I don't see you again, I'll bid you goodnight, though I doubt that you'll get much sleep if you're bunking with Tonks. I've never known such a chatterbox!" Cecilia laughed, wished Mrs Weasley a good night as well, then proceeded towards the kitchen.

She placed her hand on the handle of the door and pushed down, looking around the kitchen for Dumbledore as she opened it. To her surprise there was no-one inside, only the dishes and saucepans washing themselves merrily in the large sink.

Cecilia turned to go; obviously Molly was mistaken, but stopped when she head voices coming from the kitchen door that led to the small garden of the house.

"…then you have chosen to burden her with more woes, Lupin…"

Who was that, thought Cecilia, and she crossed the kitchen floor to where the voices were coming from.

"Severus," said Dumbledoreit was voted upon unanimously…"

"…with respect, Headmaster, I was not present, therefore it could not have been unanimous…"

"…that's right, Snape, you were out, carrying out _other _duties…"

Sirius, she thought, Dumbledore and Snape. Cecilia felt annoyed on Snape's behalf, especially when she recalled what obvious agony he had been in that evening when she had left with Dumbledore.

"…conveyed the information accurately, Sirius, you were there…"

…and Remus, added Cecilia to herself. Perhaps she should wait in the living room until they came back inside. Then she could speak to Snape before she went to bed.

"…although it was a shame you weren't there to support her, Snivellus…"

But he knows why, thought Cecilia, angrily. He had told her why. So why torment him over something he could not help?

"….other duties, Black...but then you wouldn't know anything about that…"

Cecilia turned and left the kitchen, returning to the living room to wait for them.

A cold wintry breeze swept across the garden of Grimmauld Place and Remus Lupin looked across at Dumbledore.

"…Sirius, no," said Remus, stepping between them. "Surely the most important thing is the research? God knows, we've waited long enough for it, and now you can make the potion for Harry. That's the most important thing," he added. Dumbledore nodded.

"And now we have the information we need, I can do as Lupin has just suggested," continued Snape, his face contorting into a grimace.

"And Mrs Frobisher can leave for home now," added Sirius. "For her input is no longer required. After the ball of course."

"Out of the question!" Snape turned to Dumbledore and looked at him. "Headmaster, I – "

"Do you not think she should take it easy now? Besides, who are you to say what she can or cannot do? She wants to attend the ball at Christmas here."

"You know of the dangers she faces should she return to the muggle world," growled Snape towards Sirius. "She would be found by one of them. Even if you do not are about her wellbeing, you care for Potter, and he would be in danger should they use Veritaserum on her." Remus looked between Sirius and Snape again.

"Ha!" laughed Sirius, plunging his hand inside his robe, and gripping onto his wand. "And why is it that Voldermort knows of her existence? What _other_ reason could you possibly want for her to stay, and what better way of making sure that happens by claiming she is in danger?"

"Yes, why do you want her to stay at Hogwarts, Severus?" Dumbledore looked at Snape as he took in Remus's question.

"The potion is not yet finished. Indeed it is barely begun. I think I know her better than you Lupin, when I say that she will want to see it out to its conclusion. She is a professional."

"Yet she informed me in the intimacy of my father's study that she would be leaving at Christmas. Perhaps you are letting your emotions run away with you again, Snivellus – " Snape pulled out his wand and took a step towards Sirius, arm raised.

"Gentlemen!" Dumbledore had his arms outstretched now in a gesture both wizards knew meant they should lower their wands.

"I have just spoken to young Nymphadora," Dumbledore continued "and I have agreed that for her to accompany Mrs Frobisher back to Hogwarts tomorrow. I understand that Miss Tonks is very excited about the Order Ball, gentlemen, and wishes to discuss at length the plans with Mrs Frobisher." Snape looked aghast.

"Headmaster. Surely after the last time Mrs Frobisher stayed here – " but Dumbledore cut him off.

"…as for her departure, she has yet to discuss this with me, and I believe she has yet to make up her mind. However should you so wish I will fetch her and ask her to explain to both of you her intentions?" Both Sirius and Snape looked down slightly, as if they were seventeen again.

"Then when I have spoken to her and she has informed me of what she intends to do, you shall know of it. Does this satisfy you, gentlemen?" Dumbledore looked at all three of the wizards before him. Remus and Sirius nodded. Snape merely glared at the floor.

"In that case, I suggest we rejoin the Order where we can continue our business in a more constructive manner?" He raised is wand flicked it. The door to the kitchen opened and he walked in, Sirius and Remus following him, and sat down on chairs in the kitchen, glaring at Snape as he followed Dumbledore into the living room.

Cecilia looked up from the cup of tea that Mrs Weasley had given to her and got to her feet, approaching Dumbledore as he paced across the living room.

"Excuse me, Professor," called Cecilia as he passed. "I just wanted to ask about this evening?"

"Mrs Frobisher, did Tonks not tell you that you may stay?" He spoke abruptly and Cecilia got the distinct impression he was in a hurry.

"Yes, but I need to ask Sirius, it's his house after all…"

"Tonks asked him on your behalf. As an Order member you are welcome to stay in any case, however he was quite happy with the situation. Now if you'll excuse me, Mrs Frobisher, I must depart. But before I do, may I take this opportunity to congratulate you again for this evening? Not many wizards could have managed what you did. And I am heartened that you have agreed to come to the ball here on Christmas Eve. It should be a night to remember." He smiled warmly, patting her on the shoulder, before turning and gliding swiftly to the door to the hall.

Cecilia turned and made her way to the stairs, half wondering that Tonks would have made an appearance by now, as she had promised her she would only be five minutes.

"Mrs Frobisher." As she put her foot on the first stair, Cecilia turned to see Snape beside her. She smiled.

"Severus. I thought I heard you. I mean, Tonks told me you were here. I did it," she added, smiling.

"I heard you were exceptional," replied Snape. "And that you were returning home at Christmas." Cecilia looked back at Snape, confused.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I mean, probably not for good. Just for the time of year. To see my family." She smiled again, looking in the direction of his left arm and he followed her look.

"All is well…now," he said, "although I am sorry to have missed this evening. The work we were doing this afternoon; I have a feeling I know where we were going wrong. Shall we continue our research tomorrow evening?" Cecilia nodded.

"I'm staying here this evening," she added, suddenly feeling tiredness sweep over her. "Tonks said she told you? It'll be good to catch up with her." 

"Indeed she did." Snape stopped. "And you are well? I trust Black did not attempt anything…untoward?" Cecilia shook her head, opening her mouth to wish Snape a good evening.

"Cecilia," he said quietly. "On Christmas Eve there is to be a Ball..."

"Sirius mentioned it," replied Cecilia, nodding.

"I wondered, Mrs Frobisher, will you…will you do me the honour of accompanying me?" Cecilia smiled. Yes, she thought, nodding to herself.

"Yes," said Cecilia, taking a step forward, "I would love to, Severus." He nodded his head slowly.

"In that case I will not delay you. I'll see you in the potions classroom at five thirty. Don't be late."

88888888

"So our ancestor Black, Joseph Black, he was also a scientist? Wow, that's really worth knowing, Cecilia," said Tonks.

They had been in their respective beds in Tonks's room for half an hour after Tonks had excitedly given her a spare set of pyjamas and a toothbrush that she had apparated to Diagonalley to get for her.

"No," said Cecilia. "The dates match, but I don't know for sure. But what I am sure about is that he fits into all of this somewhere. Like Raymond Lully." Cecilia's mind wandered to the conversation she had had with Remus, about her collecting the information she needed.

"I wish I'd got samples from these wizards too and run DNA tests on them. Perhaps they would have revealed more information." She sighed and turned over in the gloriously comfortable single bed and faced Tonks. "And that of Harry's – " she stopped, biting her tongue to stop herself from finishing the sentence.

"Harry's?" Tonks asked her, curiously. "But you tested Harry's, didn't you? Or am I getting confused?"

"Harry's cousin, Dudley," finished Cecilia. "Sorry, I was just yawning. To check," she added.

"Wished you'd said," said Tonks. "I could have got you some of that as well as Petunia Dursley's."

"You got the samples?" asked Cecilia. "How did you manage that?"

"Wasn't easy," admitted Tonks, "but then, if you are going to leave your window open, with your hairbrush on the dressing table, you can hardly blame a witch on a broomstick who accidentally needs a few strands if she leans in and takes them, can you?" Cecilia sat up in bed a little, and turned to Tonks.

"Tonks," she asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering, you know the question Remus was asking this evening, about whether everything was safe with the potion, you asked the question too…"

"..mh-hm," conformed Tonks. "What did you mean?"

"Remus was just getting a bit tongue-tied," said Tonks. "I think that's what he meant." Cecilia shook her head.

"No?"

"He was talking about efficacy. Effectiveness. The connection is still valid, and we could make the link. When he told me about Halloween this evening, he mentioned about how we could improve what we had. I said if we had some of Lily's hair, we could conform we had the right proportions."

"So that's what he was talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt about!" exclaimed Tonks. "This evening, when you were in Uncle's study. "Kingsley is in charge of all wizard crime scenes. I heard him mention Godric's Hollow to Kingsley. He must be trying to arrange something."

Soon the conversation drifted to Tonks's work the next day, and on to Remus. They talked about her complicated relationship and Tonks asked Cecilia about Tim.

She told Tonks that, while she still loved her husband, gone though he was, her pain was going away slowly, and she knew that one day she wouldn't feel as bad as sometimes she did now.

"You know," said Tonks, "that's exactly what my dad said about his parents after they were killed by Voldermort. He still thinks of them; he goes off into a little world of his own, and he's thinking about Gran buying him sweets on his way to school, or Granddad playing with him in the garden. Strange what love does to you. That's why I'm so lucky to have Remus."

"It must be so difficult, relationships between wizards and muggles," said Cecilia. "How you're your parents manage it?"

"Dunno," said Tonks. "I think if you love someone, it doesn't matter. I mean, take Nick. Nick from your place of work, for instance. A more mugglish man I've never met, and yet I can see the attraction."

"I'm amazed, Tracy Tonks," laughed Cecilia. "But I don't think it can be as straightforward. At some stage, backgrounds must come into it."

"Why are you so interested in wizards, all of a sudden? Hang on," said Tonks, sitting up in bed. "You sly thing, Cecilia. You and Sirius?" She shook her head. Cecilia said nothing.

"You and Sirius?" she repeated. "I mean, I can see the attraction there too; far too many women have fallen for the Black charms, Cecilia, but – "

"No," Cecilia replied. "Not in the least. But – "

"Come on. You can tell me. What is it?"

And Cecilia told her about the eve of her birthday, something she had told no-one else. Tonks gaped open-mouthed as she recounted the story, not in its fullest detail.

"And to think if I'd turned up that night…" she stopped, looking aghast. "You followed Snape? Sirius kissed you? I saw the mark on his face and I remembered asking him where he'd got it from."

"He also tried to kill me, Tonks," Cecilia reminded her. "And I can't see me in a relationship with anyone," Cecilia's mind filled with images which she tried to ignore, "let alone a wizard," more images filled it, "let alone your cousin," she finished, glad that Tonks could not see the thoughts in her mind.

"But he invited you to the ball," persisted Tonks, looking sideways at her. "And you've remembered that kiss for quite a while."

"Yes," said Cecilia, ignoring the last bit. "But I'm not going to be going with him."

"Oh? Someone else has asked you?"

"As a matter of fact, Severus," said Cecilia, matter of factly. "Don't look like that; he is my work colleague, and a member of the Order. And has, as I recall, never tried to kill me."

"Snape?!" said Tonks, astounded. "You're not telling me…you and Snape…" Tonks's hair began to change colour of its own accord.

"In your nightmares," replied Cecilia. "Anyway, it's only a do, for heavens' sake…."

"…you wouldn't say that if you knew Sirius's parties…"

"…and we'll be here, with the rest of you..."

"I know," said Tonks, shaking her head. "But it must be the first time since…since…" she stopped uncertainly. "…since he was much younger that he's got a date."

"Are you going with Remus?" said Cecilia, changing the subject. "To the ball?" Tonks nodded. "Yes, we're going together" she whispered, and Cecilia thought that some of the young woman's forthrightness had melted away. She waited until Tonks was ready to tell her.

"I think he's going to ask me to marry him, Cecilia. At the ball. On Christmas Eve." Her voice was tinged with excitement and Cecilia recognised herself, eight years ago, telling Libby something similar. She pulled her pillow towards her and turned to face Tonks in the darkness.

"Oh Tonks, that's marvellous," said Cecilia, smiling towards the witch, trying not to let the sinking feeling in her heart be heard in her voice. "How wonderful…"

And as they began to discuss what Madam Emaness would have in her glorious clothing shop that they would buy, Cecilia's mind began to linger on with Remus Lupin again, this time, with added guilt…

88888888


	18. Merry Misunderstandings

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"So that's everyone," said Molly Weasley, smoothing down her pinny. "Everyone's coming? Dumbledore?" Sirius nodded. "Minerva?" He nodded again.

"Cecilia?" she added, looking over enquiringly at Tonks.

"Yes; we were at Emaness's today." She held up a broom catalogue. "I got some flying clothes and a frock."

"What did she get?" said Remus, stepping forward to glance at the back of the catalogue. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Since when were you interested in fashion, Moony?" said Sirius, glancing at his friend.

"Just wondered," said Remus, looking up at Tonks. "I'm sure whatever she wears it will pale into insignificance next to you." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Hardly," replied Tonks. "She looked amazing." She looked across at Molly and handed her the flour. "blue dress...halterneck...empire line…ruched bodice ...when she does her hair she's going to look stunning..." Molly nodded back approvingly as Tonks emulated the shape and style of the dress. Sirius on the other hand gave Remus a "now see what you've started," look.

"That'll go so well with her colour hair," she replied. "Quite an Irish hair shade; that'll suit her, though not what I would have expected. Glad to hear she didn't go for black, Tonks."

"Or red" replied Tonks. "Does the tree still need doing?" Molly nodded.

"I'm surprised about the black," Molly continued, sprinkling the flour in mid-air, and scooping out some butter from the container. "She seems to favour that." 

"I suppose it would blend in too much with her date," said Tonks, jumping down off the stool. "It's gorgeous fabric," she continued, addressing Sirius and Remus as she passed them. They glanced at one another. "I'm probably not going to bother all that much."

"What's that, little cous'?" said Sirius, following Tonks into the living room.

"You know I don't like all that dressing up lark," she said. "I'll probably just come in my normal robes and trousers."

"No before that, Tonks," said Remus, who had followed them both. "She's bringing a date with her..."

"...who she'll blend in with in black," finished Sirius. "Well it has to be one of the Order, because the party's here..." Remus exchanged looks with Sirius again. Sirius frowned, and Remus raised his eyebrows and shook his head. They both stared at Tonks accusingly.

"Snape asked her," said Tonks airily, surveying the height of the Christmas tree. "Do you think yellow decorations or violet?" She turned to look at the two men when there was no reply.

"What?!"

"I think yellow. That's a bright, cheery colour for this time of year…" Tonks turned to look at Sirius. "Don't you think so?"

"Snape?" said Remus quietly. "Surely not..."

"No, Tonks, you've got to be joking. Tell us the truth this time..."

"That is the truth, silly. She told me Snape asked her to the party."

"And she said yes?"

"Yeah, else I would have been lying otherwise," said Tonks, sarcastically. "What's the big deal?"

"Cecilia and Snape? At the Christmas Eve party? Together?" Sirius walked from the kitchen into the living room; the light from the stars decorating the ceiling highlighting his utter disbelief in his eyes. "You mean she actually said yes? To Snivellus?"

"They've been working together, haven't they?" said Remus quickly. "Why shouldn't she?"

"But Moony," sighed Sirius in exasperation. "You'd have thought she'd have better taste, even if she is a muggle. You don't think he…" he stopped as Remus shot him a look.

"For heavens' sake Sirius," said Tonks, shaking her head. "They work together, nothing more. He asked her and she said yes. It's only a party, for heaven's sake. Why does it mean so much to you?"

"Just a party?" said Sirius, in tones of mock-affliction. "_Just_ a party? Oh my dearest, darling cousin, it going to be so much more than that!" He grinned at Remus, who rolled his eyes.

"No, that's where you're quite wrong. It's going to be _the_ best Christmas Eve party the Black household has seen in a long time. Especially now I'm organising it. All the Order's going to be there..."

Oh yes, thought Remus. The Black Christmas Eve Party. He remembered how, when Sirius remained at Hogwarts over Christmas, after his parents had disowned him, he would organise his own with James.

Remus stayed once, in their seventh year when James was trying to get Lily to go out with him and, after spending most of Christmas Day within running distance of the Gryffindor bathroom had vowed never again. That was until Sirius had suggested it to Dumbledore after the Order meeting a week ago and Remus considered he'd never seen his friend happier recently.

But...why was Sirius so concerned with Cecilia's welfare all of a sudden? It was fair enough when she was away at Hogwarts working with Snape. But they'd be here, at Grimmauld Place. He didn't need to worry about her safety...

"Well I'm sure she'll enjoy it, whoever she comes with," said Tonks. "We all will. Now, are you two going to help me dress the Christmas tree or aren't you?"

88888888

At the same time that Sirius, Remus and Tonks decorated the huge Norwegian Spruce, which bore an uncanny resemblance to the one that seemed to have disappeared "as if by magic" from Trafalgar Square that very evening, Cecilia was pacing uneasily round her room at Hogwarts.

After stopping overnight with Tonks after her presentation at Grimmauld Place almost a fortnight ago Cecilia was escorted by the young witch back to Hogwarts early on the Monday morning, to the secret passage which came out on the Gryffindor common room corridor.

They had chatted about the ball and Cecilia had asked Tonks what she would wear thinking that she would wear her black dress and robe that she had bought from Emaness's in the summer. Tonks had asked why she didn't want something new and when Cecilia hadn't answered she made her promise that the first thing she'd do would be to see Professor Dumbledore and arrange a time that they could go shopping.

It was in fact not the first thing she did by any means because she had been whisked off by Dobby to the Great Hall and made to eat an outlandishly large breakfast. Then she got into a discussion with Snape about how they should proceed with the magic which took her up to her first lesson and by the time the end of that week had come and gone, she had almost forgotten that she should speak to Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore had been happy to agree to her going with Tonks and, Cecilia noticed, had sought to confirm only that their work was now proceeding onto Harry's potion, which came as a relief to Cecilia for she had not yet decided what she would do now that her reason for being at Hogwarts was essentially redundant.

And, as the days rolled by and the nearer Christmas approached, the more her mind was pressing her for a decision…

…which she had decided to put off until after she had returned to Hogwarts from her shopping trip to Diagonalley. Then she would be in a position to know what to do, she reasoned, after having the opportunity to consider every side of it…

…and now…Cecilia sat down from her pacing and glanced at the beautifully wrapped package that was lying on her bed that contained the ludicrously expensive but divine dress and matching robe that she had fallen in love with at Madam Emaness's…if she were asked on the spot to state plainly what she intended to do, she still could not do so.

Her thoughts dwelt on the evidence she had considered since her work had ended. She had, with Snape, found the connection that bound wizards and muggles genetically which, whatever way you looked at it, was huge. That science had played such a role in all of this, and no muggles knew of it was truly astonishing.

And yet, would it matter? The wizard world hardly impinged on the non-magic directly, unless you considered the murders perpetrated by Voldermort. So if the work was only going to be of use to muggles indirectly, through his defeat, her presence here was unnecessary, especially as Snape, over the past ten days, had proven exemplary if slow in his synthesis of the work to potions.

Ignoring the voice in her head that was compelling her to consider what Sirius had said about leaving for her own safety Cecilia looked at the notebook on her desk, full of her work, now untangled and plain. The logical answer was that she needn't be here. She'd done everything that had been asked of her, and now she could go back to her family, back home, to see Libby, Amy, Mum. She could forget all that had gone on.

Or could she? Slowly, Cecilia got to her feet and walked over to the desk, glancing at the front cover of her cotton-bound notebook, its blue fibres shimmering slightly in the lamplight. Of all the work she had done towards making Harry's potion one thing remained. The history of science, muggle science, was tied up in this.

Could she essentially betray her profession and leave the secrets of all of this behind her without allowing someone in her world to know about it? And even if she could, in her heart of hearts, she would feel her job was incomplete by not at least attempting to investigate the unanswered questions regarding Lully, Joseph Black, and so on.

Cecilia's mind drifted to that morning, when she had got up very early that morning to meet Tonks outside the Three Broomsticks. The morning air was sharp and cold, so Cecilia had paced out across the hard ground until the frost-capped buildings of the village came into view. From there they had Floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron, and gone straight to Madam Emaness's,

It had been fantastic in Diagonalley again with Tonks. Because it was so close to Christmas all the shops were decorated with beautiful lights and displays and at lunchtime, having gone through the first floor of Emaness's they'd decided to have lunch.

Down a dark alley they had gone, just off the main street for a pot of tea and a mince pie in a small teashop and Tonks explained that her mum used to take her there at Christmas when she was very young. As they sat on rickety wooden chairs perched on uneven floors and sipped tea they'd sat and chatted about Christmas and Tonks had asked her what she was going to do now she had made the link.

"You mentioned leaving when you'd finished," said Tonks. "Are you still going to do that?" Cecilia had nodded, mouth full of rich, delicious mince pie. "But I haven't decided how long for yet. It's going slow with Severus's work at the moment so what I thought was to return, and contact him after Christmas, to see whether he still needs my assistance. Though…" Cecilia stopped, swallowing the mince pie and taking a sip of tea.

"What?" Cecilia looked down.

"To be honest, I'm not sure. I imagined I would be home once I've finished this, at Christmas, for good and I didn't know what to expect when I came back from your cousin's house last week and at the moment, things just seem like they were before at Hogwarts. But Severus seems to be implying he requires my assistance…"

"He actually said that?" said Tonks, amazed.

"Not in so many words. I don't think he does; he knows as much science as I do. To be honest, I'm not decided, Tonks. Half of me wants to stay and see things through, but the other half is telling me that I've done my bit, and now it's time to go home." She paused, stopping herself from mentioning Sirius's advice and looked at the young witch, who grinned back at her.

"You'll know when you meet Dumbledore. You'll know what the right thing to do is by then, and whatever you decide, it will be for the best."

Cecilia got back to her feet and began to pace again, wondering how much hope she should place on Tonks's sincere approbation. Sunday would be her last Muggle Studies lesson, on Christmas Eve, as all of the students were remaining behind for their Yule Ball. It wouldn't take much planning; she was going to organise a traditional Christmas Nativity, sing carols and talk about the meaning of Christmas, which had seemed trite to her as she discussed it with Minerva but deputy headmistress of Hogwarts had loved the idea, as had the students.

Tomorrow morning, before the students arrived in her classroom to rehearse, she would speak to Dumbledore. She would ask him whether she was still needed and confirm that she had done exactly what he had intended when he had first employed her and if necessary, admit that she hadn't decided.

Her mind drifted back to that afternoon following lunch with Tonks. They'd walked out of the side street and back into Diagonalley. On the way back to Madam Emaness's they'd paused outside the quidditch shop, and Cecilia had expressed more than a marginal interest in the game, asking Tonks which the best team in the league were.

"It's the Principal Association, actually," said Tonks. "That's what the top teams are in. Then we have different lower associations who play one another too. I support the Camberwick Feathers, but they've been demoted to Association 1 from the Primes this season. They've got a good chance if they beat the Gormley Kites next, through." She looked at Cecilia and smiled apologetically and Cecilia smiled back. Different sport, she thought, same monologue, and glanced back to note the team colours.

"Er, when I buy this wonderful, fabulous dress from Madam Emaness today, I'm going to have to get some money from the bank, aren't I?" Cecilia tried to look impassive as she spoke, almost conversational, in order to try to hide her unease. The last time she went to Gringotts she had that dreadful interview about her permit. Even though she'd taken it with her Cecilia did not relish the possibility that she might bump into Draco's father again.

"No need," said Tonks, as they began to head back to Madam Emaness's. "If you have your account number, you can use your wand to cast a special spell in order to put the correct amount of gold from your account to…what?" Cecilia had stopped walking.

"How can I do that, I – "

" – haven't got a wand!" laughed Tonks as she realised her confusion. "Yes, it was slip of the tongue," she added, ginning. "No problem, I can do it for you." She grinned again and began to walk back up Diagonalley.

A warm glow flooded Cecilia now as she thought about Tonks's mistake. She had confused her for a wizard. An equal. Which meant something in this world.

Then they'd returned to Madam Emaness, and they spent what had felt like five minutes but had actually turned out to be another three hours browsing through the clothes before Cecilia had found the Dress; grey-blue chiffon which faded to dark, full length and strapless which Tonks urged her to try on. It was quite straight cut, but easy on her hips. When she did put it on, and Tonks had transformed her hair from haystack to haute couture, she actually felt her confusion about her work fade and be replaced by anticipation of a wonderful party that they soon would be attending. In short, Cecilia Jane Frobisher looked good.

She took a towel from the pile of fresh ones next to her desk and headed towards the bathroom, her thoughts from the day's shopping to the night Dumbledore had taken her back to Grimmauld Place as she turned the latch of the sturdy oak door.

It'd surprised her that things had gone so well. She'd had, let's be honest, a very difficult task to do, in telling almost thirty wizards that a muggle practice, science, had been effective towards conquering one of their darkest fears and that they had to trust that it would be again. There could have been much more confrontation, she thought, considering.

The bath was soon full of lovely soapy suds and Cecilia threw off the clothes she had been wearing all day and sank into it, feeling her muscles un-tense in the lovely hot water.

Maybe it was because they had little choice in it, she thought as she tipped her head back into the water, because they trusted Dumbledore, or had come to accept a little of what she was saying. Or perhaps it was because they accepted her to some degree. Whatever it was, at least she wasn't lying in a bed, having woken up from he effects of one of Mr Black's objections.

Cecilia stopped and let her mind dwell on Sirius. He had definitely come to accept her, so much so he had shown her a little about his family, a topic about which she knew he was sensitive, and taken her through the understanding of something he considered quite personal.

Thinking back to how he had been only a few months ago, even to his "because he could" kiss, on the morning of her birthday, it showed real respect despite their differences.

Her mind then drifted towards Tonks and Remus as she massaged her skin with a flannel. Tonks said she thought Remus was going to propose to her and after Cecilia's own personal self revelation (which you will bury and never remember again, she told herself sternly), Tonks had gone on to say she was going to say yes despite knowing that Remus still had feelings for Lily.

That had come as a shock to Cecilia and she remembered lying in the darkness with her face glowing, not only from her own guilty feelings but also because Tonks had never mentioned anything other than their mutual affections for one another. She had asked Tonks why she knew this, and she said she remembered being eight or nine, being taken to the park with Sirius and he and James had discussed it. This had would have been in their fifth year, Tonks had said, before James and Lily had got together.

"I know he still loves her," sighed Tonks, "because he goes quiet when she is mentioned. Her death hit him hard. But he loves me now, and I love him. You can only make the best of what you are given."

Cecilia massaged shampoo into her hair and her mind wandered to her thoughts at the time, of Tim. Tonks had asked Cecilia about him, and she'd told her about their marriage; happy for the most part and failed through fault of her own, through neglect.

Once he'd gone, Cecilia had added, she remembered a time that she'd thought she would never be happy again, that she would never smile. He was her first love, and in a way, she would never be over him.

"But I still think you can love someone else," she'd told Tonks, "even after your first love. And if I were in the position Remus was in, about to propose to someone else, it sounds to me that he's found a way to put the past behind him, and was ready to move on."

The air in the bathroom took on a chill as Cecilia thought about the consequences of her own advice. Had she put Tim behind her? Every so often she'd realise she'd spent half an hour just daydreaming about him, about them doing something or going somewhere, or she'd turn round to an imaginary him as if he was next to her to ask him something or make a comment. Was she still in love with him? Would she always feel like his?

Once she had felt thoroughly cleansed Cecilia got out of the bath. It made sense to leave it, she thought, as she patted her skin dry. She could go home, knowing she had done her best for wizards and muggles everywhere, and that the work she had done was in safe hands.

Once she was dried off Cecilia walked back into her room and turned to her wardrobe, happy she had come to a decision at last. She chose some fresh clothes and picked up notebook, which she had not worked on since the night she had gone to Grimmauld Place having taken Severus's lead on the research front and closed her mind to thoughts of leaving, and picking up a pen.

He needs information about the exact frequencies and amplitudes, Cecilia thought as she made her way to the bed. Sitting down heavily on it she flicked open the pages to find the last one she had written on. Cecilia was just about to write down the date and a subtitle when she read the last sentence she had written. 

"Make sure you ask Remus Lupin re. DNA: Lily Potter. Harry. Safety."

"Bugger," she cursed under her breath, as her decision, bound up so neatly with reason and logic, unravelled like string around a bundle of paper, her plan floating away in the breeze.

He said he was going to help her, didn't he? And that was before Tonks had told her he had loved Lily, and before she had forbade all feelings of that nature in herself.

Snapping the book closed and placing it on the floor, Cecilia sighed as she realised she was back to square one on the decision-making front. Pulling the covers over her, she forced all thoughts of parties, wizards, magic, science, and home from her mind and drifted off gradually to sleep.

88888888

"I am glad to hear you will be attending the party tomorrow night." Minerva looked at Severus as he closed her study door behind him. The wizard paused only momentarily on his way to stand before the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts.

"You're going with Mrs Frobisher, are you not, Severus?" she pressed when Snape did not answer her. He coughed, and nodded briefly.

"However it is not for this reason you have come to see me."

"Indeed not, Professor McGonagall," said Snape, the tone of his voice unfathomable as he stood before her, rigid and indifferent as the granite from which the school itself was hewn.

"Perhaps you would like to sit down, and start from the beginning," continued Minerva kindly, getting to her feet and gesturing to an empty space to the right of her desk, in which a hessian-backed chair appeared moments later. "I understand Cecilia is speaking to Professor Dumbledore presently?"

"She is," intoned Snape. And you have reservations about it, thought Minerva, otherwise you wouldn't be here talking to me.

"Who told you I would be escorting Mrs Frobisher?" enquired Snape, evading the very reason for his presence so early on a Saturday morning in Professor McGonagall's study.

"Well, Cecilia, of course," replied Minerva. She glanced at Snape, waiting for him to continue.

"Of course," repeated Snape, eyeing McGonagall beadily. "She has, Professor, been a valuable asset to us over the last few months. Her work has allowed me to take an otherwise unprecedented step into the physical world of potionmaking. I should be acting against my conscience were I to see her attend Black's party knowing that she may otherwise be in danger."

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" asked Minerva, placing down her quill and getting to her feet. "Sirius Black's prior attempt on her life, you mean?" Snape nodded quickly again.

"Not just Black; as you know – " Snape stopped when he saw Minerva's knowing expression.

" - her existence is known by Voldermort and the Death Eaters. Yes, you informed us at the meeting before last. How great a risk does this pose to her, Severus?"

"I believe that if she returns to the muggle world she will be found and abducted. Until we can defeat Voldermort, until I have completed the potion, Mrs Frobisher is in grave danger. Therefore I do not believe that Professor Dumbledore is correct in allowing her to choose when she should leave." Snape's voice had risen in volume and he was on his feet. Minerva looked impassive, reading his reactions.

"And she is with Professor Dumbledore now." Snape nodded. "How do you know she is telling him that she is leaving?" Snape looked at Minerva and took a few steps in front of the desk.

"She told me this morning that her decision was to leave. When I asked her when she would be returning she extolled my scientific abilities and told me that she would not be." Severus Snape took a few steps back in front of Minerva McGonagall, who was watching him get more and more flustered as he spoke. He resented praise, she recalled, and watched as the wizard before her turned briefly back into a young boy through his reactions.

"What are the consequences, then, should she return? Are you suggesting Cecilia should know of them?"

"I do not wish to stop her doing whatever she wishes, but she does not deserve to know the danger she faces when she returns! This work I do," he paced furiously before Minerva's desk, "it will take time with the other duties I must perform when I must leave at such inconvenient moments! There is only one chance for it to work so I have to be certain that it is effective!" Snape stopped speaking suddenly and returned to his seat, glancing at McGonagall as he did so, his stony exterior returning once more as he waited for her to speak.

"She is dear to a good many of us; I doubt any of us in this world would wish her to be the victim of a muggle attack, or that any harm should come to her in any other form." The witch stopped and got to her feet, making her way towards her fireplace and conjuring a crackling blaze from the glowing embers.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I have her safety in mind, as do you, which I can see, with reference to your honourable offer of your arm for the Christmas Eve party." Snape nodded slightly again.

"Perhaps we should speak to the headmaster and put your case. Perhaps we should suggest that, for her own protection she should not leave on Christmas Eve for home and in addition and for your assistance that she remains as the muggle studies teacher at Hogwarts until the potion is complete; to allow her valuable insight to fall upon your work – "

" – I am perfectly capable of – " Snape got to his feet in defence of his own professionalism, but McGonagall raised a hand.

" – of that I have no doubt, Severus," she placated, "I merely suggest that flattery to deceive is one tactic that could work – "

" – on the other hand, her bluntness does allow me to consider all of the evidence in a different light. I do feel her input is valuable, if not always relevant – " Snape stopped, nodding in agreement at Minerva's suggestion of speaking to Dumbledore. She got to her feet.

"She appreciates your honesty, Severus. That you were prepared to work with a muggle on such important work as this does you credit. And your honesty over your past." She put her hand on the latch of the door. Snape paused in the process of standing as she spoke.

"If it had not been me it would have been Black." He got to his feet and began to pace over the old blue rug that covered her office floor. "Besides it would not have made for a professional relationship when I am gone for long periods of time, which is more likely happen more often if they believe she is vulnerable." He stopped, absently rubbing his left forearm. Minerva closed the door.

"Mrs Frobisher is not the same as a muggle, Minerva. She has an ability to understand our world that some of our own struggle with. Were her cell energy levels correct, she would be a fine witch, I should imagine." Professor McGonagall smiled.

"I appreciate the humility with which you have approached me, Professor Snape. It has taken a lot of courage for you to say this. Wait here and I will fetch the headmaster."

88888888

Cecilia's mind had drifted back to last Christmas as she sat waiting for Dumbledore to return. She had barely time to tell him why she was there before Professor McGonagall had requested his presence on a matter of urgency.

He had asked her to wait in his office for him and now, half an hour later, she had already perused the titles of the books, spoken to Fawkes (from a distance for personal safety) and perused the fascinating but indistinguishable objects on Dumbledore's desk.

Cecilia's mind sagged as she filed away her unspoken decision behind warm, fizzy-edged images of last year, sitting on the sofa with Freya, playing "Hungry Hippos" with her and her mother. Eating mince pies and drinking sherry with Libby after Mass and feeling a little hypocritical at attending Church only once that year. Watching the Queen's speech alone for the first time in eight years and realising that not only was she relieved that the arguing was over, but that her life was suddenly emptier now her husband was living without her.

She looked around the office again, as Fawkes crowed, bristling his crest with the underside of his wing. It had been early, she thought, but surely the sooner the better? Then she could look forward to being home for a week or so before coming back and working with Snape again, and maybe she would have further inspiration for teaching her students in muggle studies now that her small complement of non-magic sociological topics had been exhausted.

And this year it would be so much better, she told herself, as she turned to look at the pictures; their occupants dozing in their frames, inhaling and exhaling presumably artistic impression air. This year she had actually accomplished something to which she could continue to contribute, helping to bring one of the biggest threats to ordinary people – non-magic people, to an end.

"Where is he?" thought Cecilia aloud, pacing back to the chair before Dumbledore's desk. She had hoped this would be quick, so she could send a letter home to inform her sister and to pass on the information.

"Probably heading back right this minute," warbled a voice from the ex-head of Hogwarts portrait wall. "Or, he could be discussing the finer points of flobberworms with that stupid idiot Hagrid," it added.

"Oh, do be quiet, Phineas," she heard another voice snap. "No-one wants to hear that sort of talk here. Don't listen to Nigellus, my dear," said Dilys, "he's having an off day. I'm sure young Dumbledore won't be much longer. Then you can get on with your play." Cecilia looked round in astonishment.

"How did you…"

"Got a frame in your classroom, haven't you noticed?" asked Dilys kindly. "Looks like you've been getting on with the job well; the students have been lining up all morning looking for you. Quite the most popular muggle studies teacher, by all accounts."

"There's nothing clever about that!" intoned Phineas Nigellus, stiffly. "I banned all mention of muggles when I was headmaster and – "

" – and the students were worse off for it," finished another portrait, one of Dippet, to the right of Dilys. "It was in fact the very third thing I did, reinstate muggle studies, when I became headmaster, right after abolishing the junior anti-muggle league and sending out Letters to muggle-born wizards."

There were murmurs of approval from the frames as Dippet spoke, with the exception of Phineas Nigellus who, it seemed to Cecilia, was sulking, his arms folded defiantly and a sour look on his face.

"So if there's anything we can do in order to make up for Nigellus's…policies when he was headmaster, please tell us," finished Dippet, smiling warmly at Cecilia.

"Yes," confirmed Dilys, "please…" Cecilia smiled back at the wizards.

"Thank you," she replied graciously, "but I'm not sure that – " Cecilia stopped and thought – maybe they could help her after all.

"I've got somewhere with what Dumbledore was investigating," she began, looking at each one, including Phineas, in turn. "I have done what he has asked, but I'm convinced there is more to it than just the link we've found. It's complicated…"

"Often is," said Dippet, looking at Tobermory.

"Hm-hm," he agreed.

"Yes," nodded Dilys. They waited for her to continue.

"It also involves some other wizards, from the past. Some you may know, if you can remember when they were at school." Cecilia tried not to look pleadingly at them, but the deceased headmasters and headmistress nodded back, muttering to each other.

"I remember all mine…"

"…me too…"

"…and yours too, Gadley…"

"The wizards who I wanted to know about," continued Cecilia over the hubbub, "are…" she stopped, as they gave her their full attention, "Raymond Lully…"

"Dilys? One of yours?" The old woman nodded, winking at Tobermory who had fielded one of her students successfully.

"Someone by the name of . – something," Cecilia stopped, watching as they looked around confused.

"…something…"

"…something what, girl?" asked Dippet sharply.

"I don't know," conceded Cecilia, "but he would have been around at the same time as Raymond Lully. And Joseph Black – " at the name, Phineas Nigellus sat bolt upright in his frame, his prior disinterest fading and the colours in his frame returning.

"...1728 to 1799…" she added, hopefully as the portraits stopped chatting amongst themselves, and looked at her sternly.

"We do not speak of him," intoned Dilys, coldly, "and considering his actions against muggles, we are very much surprised that you are interested in _that _wizard." Cecilia looked at the portraits again in turn; each, with the exception of Phineas Nigellus, was wearing a suitably sombre or rebukeful expression.

"It's because of that, that I need to know," insisted Cecilia. "A famous muggle once said that you cannot fight an enemy until you know him better than your best friend."

"An insightful sentiment," conceded Dilys, after exchanging glances with the portraits. "Very well; as I am to speak of Raymond Lully to you, so will I for Joseph Black, though I must stress to you, young lady, that what you would hear is not pleasant, especially for one such as yourself." Cecilia nodded, watching as the other portraits, not required at the present time, faded as Phineas Nigellus had done in Sirius Black's study.

"Raymond Lully…" Dilys pondered, resting her chin on her hand. "I recall the young man; very interested in muggles, so I recall. Got into a fight with Cassandrus Black over it. Did not study NEWTs; went straight out to work for the Ministry of Magic."

"Was there anything in particular that – " began Cecilia, hoping that if she mentioned the word "Reciprocator" Dilys would enlighten her, but the ex-headmistress held up a hand, as if Cecilia was interrupting a flow of thoughts being received from a long way away.

"Worked for the ministry for forty years…best friends with Percival Pomfrey; his great grand-daughter is the current Healer in the hospital wing here," the portrait added, looking over the top of her painted spectacles, knowingly. "Worked within muggle relations all his life. Died in the Goblin Riots, however I believe you already know this." Dilys continued to look at Cecilia, fixing her with a stare, and Cecilia nodded slowly.

"Now," continued the portrait, "Joseph Black. Ah yes. Before my time, long before my time. However his terrible legacy lives on now, through his descendants, and through Tom Riddle Junior. During the eighteenth century, we wizards worked closely with muggles, with technology and with communication. Knowledge is power to muggles of course which, when your engineers assisted us, we assisted them with communication. Helped towards Britain remaining free of the Imperial French, as I recall. Joseph Black in particular, helped too. His work on isolating airs helped your scientists into the age of power," she stopped, before adding: "until he changed his mind about muggles."

Dilys leaned towards Cecilia, as if what she was about to say was of particular importance. "Joseph Black's legacy has meant that muggles have lived in fear of their lives for the last two hundred years. Without even knowing it." She continued to look at Cecilia and shook her head slowly. "A dreadful blight on both our worlds, young lady, and for further details I press you not to ask me."

Cecilia looked back dumbly at Dilys then nodded slightly in confirmation. Why hadn't she thought to speak to the portraits before? The headmistress had given her more information in five minutes than she had found out from Sirius's library books. Wizards and muggles co-operating. Both Raymond Lully and Joseph Black. That couldn't be a coincidence to the work she was doing, and it fitted neatly with the stubs of information she had discovered already.

Then, what she knew about Raymond Lully from the Internet, working with renowned influential scientists fitted with his working with muggles…also, Joseph Black; working scientifically to explore the properties gases. This fitted with the information in her encyclopaedia, which at least solved one mystery. But why did he change his mind so suddenly about muggles when he was happy to help them at the outset? Could it just be about his daughter?

"Now if you don't mind, I'll be glad to rest my paint; the sunlight at this time of year does dreadful damage to the pigments."

"Thank you," said Cecilia, gratefully. "That has indeed been most useful, Professor." Her mind raced to other questions, but there was one that stuck out most.

"Perhaps I could just ask one last thing," she added. "From the work we've done already, it would seem that, deep down, there are things in common with muggles and wizards. We share," she paused, trying to think of an appropriate phrase to use in conversation with a painting of a wizard headmistress from almost a hundred years ago, "certain characteristics, and that wizards can sort of forget about being wizards."

"Oh," said Dilys brightly. "You mean, that when they return to the wizard world, their power has diminished? It is interesting you mention that, Mrs Frobisher, for it was in the name of such wizards that Joseph Black claimed that the dreadful, terrible, anti-muggle laws in the Wizengamot were for. That muggles as a whole were weakening the power of wizards through collaboration. An unfortunate coincidental phenomenon which suited Black's cause."

"Thank you," said Cecilia again, wondering for a second time what his cause actually was. "Your help has been most useful." She watched the picture fade, as the others had done, and mulled over the valuable information; her decision about the work springing back into her mind. Yes, it was the right one, she told herself, running through what Dilys had told her about Lully, Black, and the phenomenon that when wizards spend time out of the magical world their power weakens.

Just then, the door of Dumbledore's study opened and the headmaster walked back in. He smiled at Cecilia, who was still standing in front of the fireplace before the portraits, and she walked back over to the chair in front of his desk.

"Ah, Mrs Frobisher," said Dumbledore, returning to his chair. "Thank you for waiting; I know your students are eager for your attention with the activities you have planned for this weekend, so I won't keep you." Cecilia looked impassive, waiting for him to continue. He glanced at her for a moment before continuing.

"You have made your decision, I trust?" Cecilia nodded.

"I've considered everything, as much as possible, and I can see that only one course of action will suit all of us." Pausing, she glanced quickly at the portraits of the wizards above the fireplace before adding, "it's not been easy." Cecilia swallowed as Dumbledore allowed her to carry on.

"I wish to return to my world, to the muggle world. I have completed the work with which you have entrusted to me and to your satisfaction. But only for a few days; a week maybe or ten days. I wish to see out this work with Professor Snape, and he has informed me that my contribution is still valuable." Cecilia stopped, and looked at the headmaster of Hogwarts. "I can continue to teach muggle studies, and work with Severus where he needs me to."

"Is this acceptable?" Dumbledore got to his feet.

"As I have said all along, Cecilia, it is your decision, and there was no doubt in my mind that you have come to it by weighing up all aspects of the situation. Yes, it is certainly acceptable, and one I hoped that you would come to. Severus will certainly need your guiding hand, and I will not have to seek another muggle studies teacher." He glided over to Cecilia, who got to her feet too.

"Then it is agreed," Dumbledore concluded, holding out his hand. Cecilia took it, and he smiled. "You will assist Professor Snape and continue to teach following your return from you well-earned break. And now – " he dropped her hand and turned, walking back towards his desk.

"Excuse me, Professor," asked Cecilia.

"Hm? Was there something else, Mrs Frobisher?" Dumbledore stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder.

"Would it…I would like to…" Cecilia swallowed and Dumbledore turned to face her, smiling kindly and waiting for her to get her words out.

"Could I ask whether I would be able to send a letter to my sister? I need to let her and my family know when I am to return home."

"Why certainly," said Dumbledore, taking her by the shoulder and leading her to his desk. "If you wish to write it now, I will see to it that it will gain a postage stamp with your Majesty's head upon it and a beautiful festive design." He handed her a quill and some paper, gesturing in her direction. Cecilia looked down, wondering what she would write.

"Thank you, Professor," she said, writing quickly and briefly, knowing that Amy would not read a long missive.

Just before she signed her name, Cecilia paused. It was the eve of Christmas Eve, and a Saturday. There would be no chance of her sister receiving it before she came home if it went by ordinary post.

"More is the pity that we need to maintain our cover, as owl post would, of course be much faster. Still," he looked down at the paper. "I will see to it that it will be delivered promptly." Dumbledore continued to smile as Cecilia signed her name and folded the paper.

Dumbledore took the letter from her and laid it on his desk, removing his wand from his cloak. He pointed at it with the wand, and flicked his wrist; purple light sparkled from it, and before her very eyes, her letter was beclothed in an envelope, and was perfectly addressed and stamped. Another flick saw the spin on the corner of the envelope before popping out of existence.

Cecilia felt her face freeze in awe, before looking in wonder at Dumbledore, who winked.

"Now," he continued, "your class will be waiting for you. And I hear that the muggle studies classroom will be the place to be tomorrow."

88888888

It was half past four on Christmas Eve as Cecilia began to applaud the outstanding performance from her students of the Nativity. She got to her feet in the festively-decorated classroom and beamed at her class of young wizards who had put in a good deal of effort to write, stage and perform the show in little under a week.

Next to her, other members of staff, students and house elves also started to applaud as Ron, Harry, George and Ginny stood at the front of the stage area, bowing and beaming too. They stepped in amongst the audience, their roles as the narrators of the Nativity now over, and began to speak to them.

Despite having had a very busy Christmas Eve already, which had begin with a near-hysterical Dobby begging her not to pack her bags up and have them ready by 9am sharp in the staffroom at the end of the corridor, and not to leave to wherever she was going this evening, and had led to her standing in front of her muggle studies class now, and their audience, about to congratulate them on their outstanding performance.

"Ladies and gentlemen, wizards and witches, students and staff." She looked around the room as she spoke, and the pockets of murmuring began to fade as the audience began to listen.

"I have a few announcements to make before you make your way to the Great Hall to meet your Heads of House." The murmuring ebbed and flowed, as the students took in the information, turning to one another briefly before paying attention to Cecilia again.

"Your Nativity play was pleasure to watch this afternoon," she smiled, beaming at the students, "not only because of the commitment you have all made to muggle studies this year but because of your effort and abilities too."

"It is my hope that the story that you portrayed this afternoon is one that I hope will live on every year, if only when you grow and tell to your children." She smiled as the audience began to chat quietly, recalling the astonished and enthralled they were when they became aware that the Christmas story had actually taken place, rather than mythological, which had been the prevailing opinion.

"Now," Cecilia continued, "until we meet again, when you return next term, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas." She beamed again, her speech over, and bowed her head, stepping forward through her students to Professor McGonagall, who had insisted along with Dumbledore and one or two other professors that they be present.

"Marvellous," said Minerva, smiling at Cecilia as she approached. "They couldn't have done it without such an inspiring teacher." Cecilia felt herself blush.

"They were the ones who did it, though," Cecilia smiled, "they put the effort in. My contribution was negligible."

"Oh contraire," said Fred Weasley, who stepped towards Professor McGonagall and Cecilia. "Professor, I don't think you should allow Mrs Frobisher to be so modest; do you know that Mrs Frobisher wrote that all herself?" Both Cecilia and Minerva turned to Fred.

"Thank you very much for your input Mr Weasley; we were all very impressed by your performance, and that of your brother. Tell me, where _is_ the rear end of the camel?"

"Here," said George, still wearing the trouser-half of the camel costume. "Thank you, Professor; we will endeavour to treasure your praise, so rarely it comes our way." He winked at Fred. "Perhaps we could transfigure ourselves into camels in your next lesson Professor?"

"Cecilia," continued Minerva, turning away from the Weasley twins, who were guffawing at their own brand of humour. "You have made the room look beautiful," she waved her arm in an arc at the decorations that the students had made without magic and she had put up the day before.

"And that you managed involve all of the students in this; a great achievement." That hadn't been difficult, thought Cecilia. There were far fewer students in her classes now, and of those that remained they were mostly from Gryffindor. Those that hadn't acted in the Nativity had been involved in making costumes, adapting the script or helping the main characters learn lines.

"Thank you, Minerva," said Cecilia graciously. "I'll be seeing you tonight, won't I?"

"After a short while, yes," replied Professor McGonagall. "I am, regrettably, on duty for the early part of the evening, for the Order, although I will join you all later on in the evening. Now, I must be going. I have to meet my House for a formal address."

"Bye," said Cecilia, as Professor McGonagall departed. She turned, and looked at the muggle studies classroom. Many of the students had stowed away their costumes in the cupboard, and were drifting out of the classroom in dribs and drabs; chatting and laughing, full of seasonal merriment.

I'll just clean up in here a bit, and go and have a bath, she thought to herself, picking up one or two of the decorations which had fallen off the wall through the heat of the fire.

"Here you are," said Harry, handing her a smaller of the streamers that had fallen to the floor.

"Harry," said Cecilia, taking it from him. "I should wash your makeup off before you meet Professor McGonagall if I were you. A wonderful performance, this afternoon, Mr. Potter." She smiled at her wise man number two, as did wise man number one, Ron Weasley.

"You do look a sight," said Ron. "It's all run down your cheeks."

"Thanks," said Harry, turning from his friend. "Thanks, Ce- Mrs Frobisher," he said. Cecilia paused as Harry stopped; he looked like he had something else to say, but didn't quite know how."

"What can I do for you, Harry?" Harry looked slightly surprised, and glanced sidelong at Ron.

"Er, we know you are leaving at Christmas, and you're coming back," said Harry slowly. Cecilia nodded patiently; she had told them yesterday afternoon, as they were preparing for the Nativity.

"We were wondering; well, thinking really – " he stopped as Ron nudged him in the ribs. Harry looked at him sharply.

" - we know how you've done tons of work, and you haven't looked your best in ages – " Cecilia felt her mouth begin to fall open.

" – and you haven't found out much since you left to tell the Or-ow – " Ron stopped as Harry nudged him in the ribs.

"Well anyway," continued Harry, "we got you this." He held out a brown bag, tied at the top with a woolly string. "Seeing as its Christmas and everything." Harry handed it to Cecilia, who wracked her brain to think what to say.

"Thank you," she said eventually, looking at the packet. "Can I open it now?"

"It's from Boutes in Diagonalley," said Ron. "Ginny and Fred and George and Hermione, me and Harry all clubbed together. You can put it in your bath when you get home. It's not magical or anything; it's just some bubble bath."

Cecilia felt her heart glow as she looked at the brown label declaring the lotion to be "…fill'd with ye blisse of one-thousande blossoms…" Ron and Harry had become paradigms of good students these past few weeks, especially Ron, who could barely pluck up the courage to answer her in class without turning red at the beginning of term, now showing all the signs of being a less errant version of his older twin brothers.

"Oh," said Harry, "and I need to return this, now we've finished our project on famous muggles. You might need it for your research." He held out her encyclopaedia.

"I don't know what to say about this," she added, looking at the bubble bath, "except thank you. And I would like you to keep the encyclopaedia, Harry," she added, smiling warmly at the two young wizards.

"Wow, thanks," said Harry, grinning at Ron as he tilted the book towards his friend.

"No, thank you," said Cecilia. "You've done more than enough to help the research, and I've managed to make a few more connections which should speed up the research." Harry looked at her expectantly.

"When I've managed to investigate a bit further, you'll be the first to know," Cecilia added. Because I want to ask you whether it's OK to use your mother's DNA in the research before I do it, she thought to herself. "If it hadn't been for you spotting Joseph Black for me though, I would still be working on the connection."

"I said it, didn't I Harry?" said Ron, beaming with pride, "and there's no need to thank me after the advice you gave me yesterday; the person who I hadn't noticed was the right person to take to the ball, like you said." He grinned, and glanced at Harry.

"Advice?"

Ron did not reply, but grinned and tapped his nose.

"Are you going this evening, to the Ball?" asked Harry.

"Not to this one," said Cecilia, "but to the one at Grimmauld Place, the one Sirius is hosting."

"Oh, I wish we were going," said Harry, sighing, "I suppose we'll just have to wait until Christmas Day to hear about it."

"So you're going to Grimmauld Place for Christmas?" Ron and Harry nodded. "Then I may see you on my way home; Tonks has promised me an interesting and enjoyable mode of transport, so I'm looking forward to finding out what that is."

"Well, we'd better get Harry cleaned up," said Ron, looking at Harry again. "Then see what the McGonagall wants before tonight."

"Hope you have a good evening yourself," added Harry, taking a few steps with Ron towards the door."

"Night, lads," said Cecilia as they walked towards the door. "Enjoy yourselves, and thanks," she added, waving the bubble bath.

"So she's going to Grimmauld Place, and then back home, before coming back here next term," whispered Harry, when they were ten yards down the corridor from the muggle studies classroom. "She can't possibly be in any danger, can she?" Ron shook his head in agreement.

"Dobby's bound to come and find you – " he raised his eyebrows as Harry rolled his eyes. " – so you can tell him then." Ron opened the door that led into the courtyard. "I mean, we could have guessed she'd be fine but he's been going on about her being in mortal danger for days now." Harry nodded.

"Let's not worry about that now," said Harry, as he joined the throng of students making their way towards the Great Hall. "And you're going to have a brilliant night," he added as they caught Hermione's glance. She smiled at Ron.

"It's not like that. We're friends." Harry raised his eyebrows. "All of us are," he added, defensively, stopping dead.

"Come on," said Harry, pulling Ron by the arm as the Gryffindors began to congregate around Professor McGonagall. "It's just a ball. Hurry up, or she'll have our guts for garters!"

88888888

A conversation between two friends can be revealing. In some things, opinions as wide chasms can be set aside through the intimacy and loyalty of friendship.

The ultimate question is always thus: how far do you allow yourself to stand aside, denying your own glimpse of happiness for someone you care for so deeply, even when you know that person does not deserve the happiness simply because of the method by which he means to achieve it?

One such conversation between two old friends was taking place right at this moment.

"I have seen the way you look at her," one said, despite knowing the other would not be swayed from his course. "I know you want her. " Who wouldn't? She was the most wonderful thing that had ever entered his life.

"I'm just working my way up gradually, old friend." His eyes gazed wistfully at the thought, and he smiled, lasciviously. "But you're right; I do want her, her mind, her body…especially her body."

How tastefully put, thought the first friend, sadly. However there was little doubt whom this woman would choose in any case, given the chance. His friend was the most handsome, charismatic man alive. Besides who was he, to say that his friend should not have her? Even if his friend did not, could he really think she would ever look twice at him when she found out what he was?

Only…the man turned to the window, gazing down at the frozen garden below. It shouldn't be like this. He loved this woman completely. He'd do anything for her. Anything for his friend too.

But he knew deep down she would not be anything more than a one night stand to his friend, just another fading memory in years to come, barely being able to recall her name. Just another psychological reinforcement to remind himself how different he was to his family, which ironically made him even more like them.

"Remus," said his friend, patting his shoulder, "Its going to be all right. When you ask Tonks to marry you, I know she's going to be so happy. You both will." Remus turned and nodded at Sirius.

Ever since they had met one another, and had been working together in the Order it was a commonly assumed fact that Remus and Tonks would eventually become a couple. He knew how Tonks felt about him, and it seemed merely a matter of time until they got together and lived happily ever after. He'd even assumed it himself. Right up until the day Cecilia Frobisher came to work for the Order. Then his world turned upside down.

"Please don't hurt her," said Remus, smiling weakly at Sirius. "She's a...a lovely woman…"

"Oh Remus, relax," smiled Sirius. "You're always determined to see the good in everyone. She's only a muggle, you know? She should be honoured! Anyway, she understands that I was just drunk before."

"Does she?" said Remus. It was news to him. But couldn't he just imagine this kind-hearted woman forgiving Sirius anything? Who wouldn't anyway for those beautiful puppy-dog eyes?

"And we're there, protecting her with our lives, for the fact she's in Hogwarts. Besides, wouldn't it be a sight seeing Snivellus's face when I tell him I've slept with his assistant? You've seen how he goes out if his way to protect her, like a china doll. He'll be livid!"

So that's it, thought Remus, a touch of bitterness infusing his stomach. That was the real reason he was going to do it. Revenge. He folded his arms and went back to looking out of the window once more. A few moments ago there was still hope, just a glimmer maybe, but hope nonetheless. Now…

"Sirius, please don't break her heart". He couldn't bear it if the sparkle behind those bright blue eyes were to disappear. He knew his friend; Sirius was more than capable of that. And if he succeeded in sleeping with Cecilia, thought Remus, sighing inwardly, Sirius would probably break his heart, too.

"Relax Moony; it's me!" said Sirius, laughing. "Once I melt that frigid exterior who knows? She may even enjoy it!"

As Sirius left Remus staring out of the study window, that would have been the end of the conversation, had it not been for the fact that it had, in part, been overheard.

88888888

Cecilia pulled off the towel from her hair as she walked through the door between the bathroom and her bedroom, throwing it onto the floor as she headed towards her dressing table.

As she searched for her hairbrush the sparkles from the fibres of her dress glinted in the candlelight and caught her eye and Cecilia gripped the top of her towel as she turned to look at it, before pulling open another drawer.

Aha, there it was, she thought; the little shadow of uncertainty that she had inadvertently packed it that morning evaporated quickly and Cecilia threw it onto the top of the dressing table, narrowly missing the glass mirror.

Not that her hair would be in any way glamorous, she thought as she let her towel drop and she pulled on some underwear; she would have to do her best with some grips and put it up somehow.

Cecilia ran her hand across the luxurious fabric, thinking about the shopping trip that she and Tonks had taken, and she wondered whether Marks and Spencer, the muggle M and S, would stock such wonderful clothing. Soon she would find out, she thought, as she picked up the gorgeous garment from on top of the matching cloak, slipping it over her damp head, but not before she had enjoyed this party tonight.

The dress felt even more beautiful on; Cecilia had been imagining this evening ever since Sirius had invited her and now her heart began to pound with the ethereal enchantment of season, like a deluge of water that had been hitherto dammed behind science, magic, muggle studies and everything that had until recently occupied her time.

She ran her hands up the bodice of the dress; her soft hands felt the satin-like material, before catching the damp locks of her hair on her shoulder. Sighing, Cecilia walked bare footed across the flagstones, and got hold of the brush, allowing the halterneck of the dress to hang over the silver bodice as she brushed her hair through roughly as she scrutinised her appearance in the mirror. At least some of the shadows had gone, she thought. Nothing that a bit of makeup wouldn't disguise. Such a shame she hadn't got any.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Cecilia stopped mid-brush, and looked at her appearance.

"Who is it?" she asked, hoping it wasn't Snape.

"Er, Mrs Frobisher…" the door opened and Cecilia looked across at it as Hermione Granger tentatively peered round the door. "I was just wondering if I could speak to you…"

Cecilia smiled and nodded, and Hermione pushed the door open further before stepping into the room. She looked beautiful in what Cecilia presumed was the girl's ball dress for the evening, a mint-green dress in georgette fabric, and she gestured towards the chair near the hearth.

"Good evening, Hermione," she said, noticing the uncharacteristically flustered look that the young witch wore as she stepped over the flagstones. "Please excuse me, I was just getting ready myself. What can I do for you?" Hermione smiled weakly, looking at Cecilia but said nothing.

"Are you looking forward to the Yule Ball? It's a seven-thirty assembly for the procession, isn't it?" Cecilia added, as the school bell began seven sonorations.

"Professor McGonagall is leading us this year; we're going with our houses. Much better than last year." Hermione stopped, and there was silence again; the complete antithesis of any female bedroom prior to an evening out.

"Your dress is beautiful," continued Cecilia, trying to put the girl at her ease; this wasn't like Hermione, who was normally so self-assured, and continued to brush her hair. "I just wish Hogsmeade had a hairdressers; then perhaps they could have done something with this."

She picked up a handful of hair, before letting it fall out of her hand, smiling as it fell limply by the side of her face. "Who did yours?" Cecilia added, looking in admiration at Hermione's beautifully coiffure.

"I did," replied Hermione, holding out her wand. "We don't need hairdressers," she added, pointing it at her own head. "Artireum Regium," she said firmly, and her hairstyle neatly unfolded itself into Hermione's usual swept-off-the-face look.

"Although I suppose it can't be much fun if you can't do that," she added, giving Cecilia an apologetic look. "If you like, I can give yours a try. Venierum Regium." Hermione pointed her wand at her head again and her previous style returned with, Cecilia noted, some extra sparkle. "What were you thinking of?"

Cecilia looked at Hermione's own style, before pulling out a magazine with a picture of a model whose hair looked similar.

"Something like that; like yours. Wavy and up," said Cecilia, the roles of teacher and student shifting momentarily. "I can probably curl it and pin it but it won't look as good as yours."

"If you'll allow me, Mrs Frobisher, I can do your hair for you." Hermione looked at her hair, smiling eagerly. Cecilia nodded.

"Venierum Regium," said Hermione, and flicked her wrist, as she had done her own hair. Suddenly, Cecilia's hair began to twist itself into an intricate style, curling and turning as if weaving itself into place.

"There," said Hermione proudly. "All done." Cecilia felt her mouth fall open as she looked a herself in the mirror. It was different to Hermione's; hers cascaded down her back whereas Cecilia's looked more elegant. It was as if the spell had somehow attuned itself into what Cecilia was wearing and styled her hair accordingly. And, could she see a hint of makeup adorning her eyelids, cheeks and lips?

"It's beautiful," said Cecilia gratefully. "You know, if ever you fall on hard times you could always go into Godmothering; I hear there's a big call at this time of year."

"Oh yes, like in Grimelda," laughed Hermione. "I'll bear that in mind," she added. Then her face fell.

"What is it I can help you with?" asked Cecilia again, hoping this time the girl would tell her. Hermione stepped over to the chair near the fireplace and sat in it, saying nothing. Cecilia faced her, sitting on the end of the bed.

"You're going with Ron to the ball, I understand," continued Cecilia kindly and Hermione nodded. "Can I assume from our conversation a few months ago that this is something you welcome?"

"Yes," said Hermione quietly, looking anything but happy. "I'm really looking forward to it, but – " she stopped, and looked down. Oh no, thought Cecilia. Surely not the birds and the bees talk. Hermione was surely more than clued up in that department, or at least she would be if she were at a non-magic school.

"May I ask, is it events after the ball that are worrying you, Hermione?" The girl looked up, and nodded. "Do you want to talk to me?"

"Yes…like you say…after the ball…" Hermione swallowed, and looked beseechingly at Cecilia. "I'm worried, Mrs Frobisher…about after the ball…that Ron just chose me because he had to choose someone. I don't think he likes me in the same way as I like him." Oh, thought Cecilia. Not the birds and the bees talk, then.

"And you're worried because you think that you'll be betraying yourself if you go, knowing that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you do about him?" A look of shocked surprise flashed behind Hermione's eyes. She nodded slowly and Cecilia got to her feet.

"That's something you can't answer. Only Ron knows how he feels and why he asked you. He seems to be a good friend of yours in any case." Hermione nodded.

"So you know he at least cares something for you." She nodded again.

"I'm just hoping, Mrs Frobisher, because I do feel something for him. I…" she stopped, and this time there was a small smile. Cecilia smiled back.

"Enjoy yourself tonight, Hermione. Forget about what he might or might not feel. Any young man would count themselves lucky to have you, looking as beautiful as you do, knowing you as Ron does. Don't waste time thinking about what might or might not be."

"Thank you, Mrs Frobisher," said Hermione, getting to her feet. "I feel much better now. It's just, when I put on the dress I felt…so unlike myself. I don't normally care for my looks, not like so many other girls…" Cecilia felt herself nodding as the girl spoke.

"You look beautiful too," she added.

"Thank you. I wouldn't have done though, if you hadn't have, well, Hermione – " Cecilia mimicked Hermione casting the spell that had turned her hair from dour to wow. Hermione turned to go.

"Just before you go, I've got something that would look lovely with your dress." Cecilia stepped over her towels that still littered the floor opened her small black handbag. She reached into the zipped pocket and pulled out her second anniversary present from Tim; a platinum pendant in the shape of a daisy, with diamond petals and an emerald centre on a thin, delicate chain. Cecilia held it up to the light and nodded.

"I couldn't possibly," said Hermione, looking at the necklace in fascination. "It is gorgeous…it looks so expensive..."

Cecilia took a few steps towards Hermione, holding it up to the light.

"…it does go…" Hermione looked at Cecilia, adoration in her eye, "…but no…I'd be too afraid of losing it…" Cecilia shook her head.

"Please, wear it and enjoy it. It looks lovely with your dress." Hermione smiled broadly; a much more pleasing expression, thought Cecilia, than when arrived.

"There," said Cecilia firmly, opening the clasp and slipping it around Hermione's neck. "If he doesn't want to kiss you now, there's no hope for him." Hermione giggled.

"Have a lovely night yourself, Mrs Frobisher," said Hermione, making to leave and she took a few steps towards the door, raising her hand in a wave just before she disappeared through it.

And now to get this halterneck to fasten properly, thought Cecilia, turning towards her mirror and undoing the fastening that was holding the collar together.

"Oh, I forgot to ask," she heard Hermione say faintly through the other side of the door, "who did you say was escorting you?"

"Hang on a second Hermione; do you think you could come back in and give me a hand with this halterneck?" Cecilia heard the door open and some footsteps behind her.

"I just can't get this to sit right, and – " Cecilia stopped as she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders which took the straps of the fastening and tied them neatly around the back of her neck. She shivered as the cold hands smoothed down the strap at the collarbone and she turned to see…

…Severus Snape was standing behind her, looking her up and down. Cecilia glanced to the door where Hermione was peering round in to her bedroom, her face a picture of wide-eyed awe and fascination as she looked at Snape. Cecilia could understand why.

It was obvious that he'd had gone to a good deal of effort to get ready: his hair looked fresh and it was pulled back off his face into a pony tail which made him look a lot younger than his usual style. Under his robe he wore black shirt, black skin-tight trousers and from the knee, he was wearing black leather boots which tapered out into a point and had a heel. If Cecilia hadn't expected him sometime that evening, she would not have recognised the man stood before her now.

A random voice in Cecilia's head searched for something to say and she turned to Hermione who was still by the door and staring at them both, open-mouthed.

"S- sorry, Hermione, was there something else you wanted?" Hermione shook her head.

"I'll just – go," she whispered, and closed the door quickly behind her. Cecilia looked back to Snape.

"Thank you for that," she replied. Snape said nothing, but looked at her in the eye. His gaze was softer than she remembered and Cecilia smiled.

"Are you ready?" he asked, stepping across to her bed and retrieving the cloak that matched her blue-grey dress.

"There's just one more thing before we go." Cecilia reached into the drawer of her desk and pulled out a small necklace. "Could you put this on for me?" Snape nodded, and took it from her hand, carefully unfastening it. He took a step behind her and Cecilia felt the small cross pendant brush against her skin. The least she could do in deference to the festival.

"There," she said. "How do I look?"

"Adequate," he replied stiffly holding out her robe, "although anything is better than those trousers you have been taken to wearing of late."

"And you look great yourself," replied Cecilia graciously, as she linked her arm into his outstretched one and they began to proceed out of her bedroom door. "How are we getting there?"

"Floo," replied Snape simply, "although if you prefer we could go by broom." Cecilia's mind began to race: not flying on a broomstick; he surely didn't mean that!

"Floo will be fine," she smiled and they walked down the corridor to the staffroom at the end of the teachers' quarters. "Thank you for asking me, Severus," she continued, as they walked into the staff room. I don't know who else I would like to have gone with."

Snape said nothing as they walked onto the soft blue carpet, but led her to the fireplace.

"Oh, I've got to tell you," Cecilia continued, "you'll need to get the potion to have an energy-stable base. I think that must be what Lully found…" she stopped when she realised Snape was staring at her.

"You're going home." Snape reached into his pocket and withdrew a box which Cecilia knew contained floo powder. Cecilia nodded.

"But not for good; just to see my family, for about a week. I did tell you, didn't I, Severus?" She looked quizzically at him, and Snape nodded stiffly.

"And when you return, I hope to have progressed. Currently, other work has taken priority." He opened the lid of the box and she thought of the night in October, of Snape with the Death Eaters as Cecilia watched him cast the dust into the empty fireplace. Her eyes rested on his left forearm and the image of the Dark Mark filled her mind.

"But that will not concern us tonight," he added, following her gaze to her eyes and holding out his right arm again. "Mrs Frobisher…" He waited until she'd stepped next to him and Cecilia took his arm again, gripping it tightly, knowing what was coming…

… five seconds later, and a slightly less healthy Cecilia, dressed in Emaness's finest, felt herself sag at the knees as she stepped out of the fireplace, stumbling over the row of bricks into the hall of Grimmauld Place.

Severus turned just as Cecilia staggered and he caught her arm, pulling her towards him for support. Cecilia leaned against him waiting for her head to clear.

"Perhaps we should have flown after all," said Cecilia, swallowing when the dizziness had passed. Snape shook his head.

"I do believe you are getting far better at travelling by floo," remarked Snape, as he waited for her to smooth down her dress. "How do you feel now?" When Cecilia didn't respond Snape tilted her chin gently upwards and looked straight into her eyes.

"Better," she replied. "Much better."

"In that case, we'd better not keep the rest of the Order waiting." Snape took a few steps towards the living room door, and with his left hand, opened the door as Cecilia took his other arm.

The sight that awaited her was more than she could have imagined. Far from the miserable excuse for a living room that 12 Grimmauld Place was in the summer, the room had been transformed into a dance floor, with settees and tables around the outside. Near the back of the room stood a huge Christmas tree, decorated beautifully, its baubles sparkling in the candle light.

As Snape led her into the room, Cecilia looked at the wizards who were already there, most of them with a drink in hand, chatting to one another. As they walked further, the room began to grow quiet, and the wizards and witches who had been talking to one another turned their attention to Snape and Cecilia.

Cecilia glanced uncertainly at Snape when she realised that they were staring at her; Molly Weasley to her right, and the elder members of her family; Tonks was sitting next to Bill Weasley and behind them, Remus leaning against the fireplace with Dumbledore just behind him. All in posh robes for the occasion, looking happy and relaxed. Before she could register any others Cecilia noticed that the murmurs had quietened now and she started to feel uneasy.

"Can I get you a drink?" asked Arthur Weasley, who had appeared to her right. Cecilia turned to look at him, and smiled. "Glad you could make it," he added. "What would you like?" Cecilia smiled briefly at Snape, before turning back to Mr. Weasley; the murmurs and whispers beginning again.

"Er, have you got any orange juice?" She noticed him frown as she spoke, looking confused. "Sorry, pumpkin juice," she corrected, and Mr Weasley's expression was replaced with a smile.

"You do look lovely," said Molly Weasley, approaching Cecilia. She glanced at Snape, who had followed her over to where the Weasley clan were sitting. "You look beautiful Cecilia. Doesn't she look beautiful, Severus?" She looked across at Snape, who nodded his head, and coughed in agreement.

"I you will excuse me for a few moments Cecilia, I need to speak to the headmaster." Snape dropped her arm, and began to stride over to where Dumbledore was standing, next to the Christmas tree.

"Wow!" said Tonks, getting to her feet and Cecilia noticed how great she looked in her purple velvet mini dress that she had chosen at a few minutes to closing in Madam Emaness's on Friday.

"Who did your hair?" Tonks looked up in admiration, and Cecilia watched as Tonks's own hair paled to her shade and twisted itself into her style.

"Hermione, actually," said Cecilia. "It does look lovely…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed behind Tonks that Remus was looking in her direction. He raised his glass when he saw Cecilia looking back at him and she returned the gesture with a smile before dragging her mind back to the conversation Tonks and Mrs Weasley were having next to her.

"…and we said, didn't we, that we thought she would choose black." Molly Weasley looked at Cecilia, expecting her to respond. "We thought you'd choose black," she repeated, looking at Cecilia again.

"Black?" Cecilia looked around the room, trying to see if she could see Sirius; it was his party after all. She looked back at Molly, confused.

"But you chose blue after all. Or is it grey? It does suit you, whatever colour it is. Although it wouldn't have been the first I would have picked for you." Cecilia smiled when she realised she was talking about her dress.

"It cost an arm and a leg," said Cecilia, "but it's not every day I go a Yule Ball here in the wizard world."

"And you look beautiful in it, too," said Remus, who had come over to join them. Cecilia smiled again, feeling herself blush for the second time in as many minutes.

She looked back at Remus and it occurred to Cecilia that he didn't look very well at all. Perhaps it's nerves with the thought of asking Tonks to marry him that evening.

"She does indeed, Moony. Brains and beauty. We couldn't ask for anything more." Sirius Black stepped between Remus and Cecilia and she felt herself blush at the complement as she smiled at the host of the pasty who was looking, well – drop-dead gorgeous.

"Good evening, Sirius," said Cecilia, coolly. "You seem to have worked wonders here; the place looks beautiful."

"We've been trying to get it ready since Friday," said Tonks, winking at her cousin, "right after we went shopping. It took a collective effort from all of us to get it sorted and still Kreacher wanted to save everything."

"I know. My stupid inherited house elf. Why oh why did I agree to Dumbledore to take him on once his father had died?"

"Because you can't resist lost causes," replied Tonks, nudging him playfully and winking at Cecilia. "In fact you can't resist much, can you Sirius?"

"So I hear your children and Harry are coming here at Christmas," said Cecilia, changing the subject quickly and turning to Mrs Weasley. "Do you have any plans for Christmas Day?"

"Very few, as many of us will be on duty for the Order," replied Molly. "However Mr Weasley is planning to take Ron to Crewe Junction for…what was it again, Arthur, Train-Striping?"

"Train Spotting," corrected her husband, patiently before looking at Cecilia. "Not the same as it used to be, you know. Not since Beeching got rid of the steams. But we manage to see a few express trains at Crewe, Sturgis and I. Perhaps if you're not doing anything, you'd like to come with us?" Cecilia noticed Molly roll her eyes.

"I'm going back home for Christmas for a few days," said Cecilia, "but otherwise, I would have loved to come with you." Molly gave her a "don't encourage him" look.

"Hm, a pity," said Arthur, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Perhaps another time, then?"

"Certainly," said Cecilia nodding, as she felt the anxiousness that had tightened her stomach when she'd arrived with Snape disappear as music began to fill the air.

"The opening dance!" shouted Tonks, beaming at the others. "It's traditional," she said to Cecilia, as she grabbed Remus's hand. "We always have it at Yule Balls. Every wizard Yule Ball starts with this." Cecilia watched them head towards the wooden inlaid dancefloor that shone like a new pin along Molly Weasley, who Arthur had taken by the hand, and Bathsheba who had been asked onto the floor by Bill Weasley.

"Mrs Frobisher." Snape stood next to her, holding out a hand. Cecilia looked at it and followed her gaze upwards.

"Cecilia," she heard on her right hand side. "I would be honoured if you would join me for the opening dance." Sirius's voice melted over her like warm chocolate. She turned to him and smiled.

"Sirius," she began, "I'm flattered that the host of the party would wish to dance such an historic dance as this with me. However, Severus asked me first, and I did come as his partner. Perhaps the next dance?" She noticed a localised atmosphere develop between the two wizards.

"The next dance," said Sirius, levelly, not taking his glare off Snape. Cecilia smiled at Sirius again as she linked arms with Snape and he led her onto the floor between the other couples.

"You are acquainted with dancing, I trust?" Snape looked at Cecilia as he spoke, putting his hand on her waist and pulling her closer.

"I've ballroom-danced before," replied Cecilia, resting her hand on Snape's shoulder. "And I can waltz," she added, listening to the opening few bars of three-time rhythm.

And so, Cecilia Frobisher began to waltz with Severus Snape, along with the other couples on the dance floor. As the music progressed, Cecilia felt herself relax more, and she began to feel enjoyment and light-heartedness. Once or twice, she looked up at Snape; wondering what he was thinking, for his face was almost expressionless, yet he held her gently as if she would break, leading her in the dance.

Cecilia's mind wandered to thoughts of home; tomorrow Tonks would take her, and she would be back in her own world for a while. How lovely that would be, to see her best friend, her sister and mum again. To sit in front of the fire and watch Christmas TV, and find out which manufactured pop band managed to sell the most records to be Christmas No. 1. To eat Christmas dinner with her family, and visit Libby in the evening and see Freya.

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she realised the music was coming to an end. Snape led her back off the floor, standing next to her as she began to chat to other members of the Order; at first with Snape by her side, but eventually he drifted away as Cecilia got into conversations with most of the Order over the course of the next two hours.

It was lovely to talk so freely to these people, who were so relaxed and talkative. The conversation drifted from her work again, to her plans over Christmas; from Mrs Weasley's delicious food, to their Christmas plans; the workload at the ministry and the watch rotas over the festive period with Sturgis Podmore. She spoke to Dumbledore who informed her that Minerva would be with them once the Yule Ball at Hogwarts was concluded, and to Alastor Moody; a gruff, crotchety wizard who was actually rather charming, in his way.

Cecilia soon after found herself in conversation with Mr Weasley again, this time over the relative merits of the engineering brilliance of Thomas Telford compared to Isambard Brunel and Kingsley Shacklebolt joined them, claiming George Stephenson to be by far the best engineer of the age, citing the Rocket as the ultimate engineering triumph.

"…a storm in a teacup!" Cecilia had laughed. "It won the Rainhill Trials, but if you want real locomotive genius, you need to look to Trevithick…"

Tonks took her aside soon after, and they talked with Mrs Weasley about Christmas holiday plans for the children. They would be with the Order over holidays, and Molly said that they planned to visit home at some point, as they had some spells which would help repair their house which, she explained, had taken a turn for the derelict over the course of the last few months.

Then Tonks had turned to Cecilia, giving her a beautiful bookmark made of gold fibres interlaced with delicate threads. It looked to Cecilia as if it was an insect's wing and Tonks told her it was magical.

"It changes colour with the mood and theme of the book: pink for romance, green for adventure and so on." She looked hopefully at Cecilia, and she smiled back at Tonks. It was indeed remarkable.

"It's lovely, Tonks," said Cecilia, tucking it away inside her robe and removing an envelope from the other. "For you," she added, placing it in Tonks's hand. The young witch opened it; her eyes wide in wonder.

"A pass for the Camberwick Feathers!" she exclaimed, jumping in excitement and hugging Cecilia. "These…how did you manage to get hold of this?"

"Let's just say, I can pull things out of the hat too," laughed Cecilia, heartened that Tonks was so thrilled with her present. It had taken a lot of coaxing of the shopkeeper in the Quidditch shop in Diagonalley to part with it.

She had sneaked off when Tonks was in Flourish and Blotts; the man seemed sceptical that she wanted to buy one, for it cost a few dozen Galleons. But she had told him it would probably be her last visit to Diagonalley ever in her life and the poor man began to cry, taking out the ticket from the display case, gift-wrapping it and giving her a discount.

"Look, Remus," said Tonks, pulling Cecilia by the hand over to where Remus was standing who was talking to Dumbledore. They were standing near the old-fashioned gramophone player on the other side of the fireplace. She showed him the ticket, grinning widely. "How marvellous is she? I mean look: the Feathers!!" Remus looked at Cecilia, and smiled.

"She is," said Remus, smiling at Tonks. "Now you can't say that you've got nothing to do on a weekend. And how are you, Cecilia? You look beautiful, by the way. Doesn't she, Professor?" Remus looked at Dumbledore, who was dressed in a more ornate robe, sparkly hat and noticed Cecilia with what looked to her like…glitter in his beard…?

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, smiling at her. "More lovely a vision I have not seen in a long while. Excepting you, Nymphadora; you look beautiful every day." Cecilia glanced at Tonks, who cringed at the complement.

"Yes, well," she said, turning to go. "I'm just going to show Bertie." And she turned, leaving Cecilia with Remus and Dumbledore.

"I understand that Tonks is taking you back home tomorrow," said Remus, turning to speak to her. Cecilia nodded.

"Not forever, though. I'm coming back to help Snape with the potion for Harry." Remus smiled.

"You are so good," he said, "so caring. That you still want to assist us after finding the Universal connection; that's amazing." Cecilia felt herself blush for the third time that evening.

"No, Remus, it's just my insecurities and pride, really," she laughed, putting a hand on his arm. "If ever Severus were to find a problem with it, I'd never live it down!"

"I can't see there being a problem with anything you do, Cecilia," said Sirius, who'd joined in the conversation. "Your work has been very useful to us, hasn't it, Professor?" He looked across at Dumbledore, who nodded impassively.

"Cecilia," said Remus, looking serious. "May I ask you whether you would be free whilst you are at home?" He took her by the arm and led her away from Sirius and Dumbledore. When they had got to the front window, which was shrouded in a burgundy velvet curtain, he turned to her.

"What's this about, Remus?" asked Cecilia, puzzled.

"When you are at home, during your break, I wondered whether you would be able to spare me a visit? It would be in your interest, of course…" Remus trailed off, and looked around. No-one was watching them, so he bent closer .

"It will have to be short notice and we'll have to move fast if we are to get what you need…" he stopped again, noticing that Tonks had glanced in their direction.

"What I need, " repeated Cecilia, frowning as Remus touched her on the arm and she fixed him with a stare. "What do you mean, Remus?"

"Lily," he replied simply. "You need hair, or something of her. For Harry." He looked at Cecilia long and hard, as if willing her to do or not do something.

"Yes," she replied. "For Harry. To make sure I'm totally right." She nodded reassuringly, and Remus's anxious expression melted into relief. He still looked ill, Cecilia thought; I wonder if I should ask him about the proposal?

She opened her mouth to ask Remus something, when music began to play again. Wizards and witches began to congregate on the dance floor as the eighteenth-century introduction began to permeate the atmosphere.

"You did say the second dance, Cecilia." She turned and Sirius was standing behind her, his hand out in her direction encouraging her to take it.

"Excuse me Remus," said Cecilia, smiling thankfully in his direction. "Perhaps we can talk later, after this dance?" He nodded as Cecilia took Sirius's hand and led her onto the dancefloor.

The formation was traditional too: parallel lines of men and women facing their partners for the first half a bar, and moving positions along with the time before dancing with the partners to the left and right.

Cecilia trod left, watching Molly Weasley in front for the steps, and Dumbledore took her hands as they waltzed.

"You take a very neat step, Mrs Frobisher," he remarked, as they waltzed around the floor. "And a fast learner. Are you enjoying yourself so far?"

"Thank you, Professor," smiled Cecilia. "I am indeed. It's so lovely…the music…and everyone here…"

"Are you settled in satisfactorily? Our house-elves managed to send your belongings on here, to Miss Tonks's room this morning."

"I didn't know that," said Cecilia. "Thank you," she added, as the parallel lines reformed. This time she was facing Sirius again, who smiled at her, before stepping to the right. Sturgis Podmore beamed at her as they joined together and waltzed to the music again.

"Jolly good to see you, Mrs Frobisher," he said, grinning. "I see you have managed to survive then, in a worldful of wizards?"

"Indeed," replied Cecilia, "and not without your help, might I add, Mr. Podmore. Had it not been for your generous donation, I doubt I would have got as conclusive results as I did." Sturgis laughed heartily.

"You mean this?" he continued, stroking his long hair into a point as he danced. "Who'd ever have guessed that something in this would be able to get you to discover the whole world?"

Then, as the music changed for a third time, the lines reformed. This time, instead of changing direction the men and women lines stepped forward, so the dancers were with their original partners.

Cecilia stood before Sirius now, and she held out her arms for the waltz and she felt a shiver pass through her as he put his right hand on her back and closed his left round hers, leading her round.

"A lovely evening, Sirius," said Cecilia as they danced. "It was very kind of you to invite me."

"Not at all," he replied. "You're most celebrated amongst the Order; how could I throw a party for us and not invite you?" He smiled warmly, and Cecilia felt herself being drawn into his onyx eyes and a tingle passed through her lower back where his right hand rested.

"Tonks certainly seems to like her present," he continued as they danced. "Did you enjoy your shopping expedition?" Cecilia nodded.

"There was such a lot to choose from; I could have had any number of dresses." They moved slower now as the music slowed, and Cecilia thought she felt somewhat light-headed.

"The one you are wearing is, as its wearer…enchanting," finished Sirius as the music came to an end. Cecilia nodded, but didn't reply.

"Are you all right?" asked Sirius, as the music stopped. The couples began to move away, but Cecilia remained holding onto Sirius's robe and they were left standing in the middle of the dance floor.

"Just a bit light headed, I – "

One or two other people began to approach them; murmurs of concern filling the air.

"…all right…?"

"…look a little pale…"

"I'm fine," said Cecilia, looking back at Sirius.

"Well, you don't look it," said Alastor Moody, next to her. "Perhaps you should put your feet up, girl." Cecilia looked into the gnarled face of the Auror and smiled.

"…Cecilia…"

"Come on," said Sirius. "Perhaps a glass of water and a sit down in the kitchen will make you feel better – "

"And perhaps I should take her, Black; I am her escort after all. Just out of interest; why is it that she is unwell after associating with you?" Cecilia let go of Sirius's shirt and got to her feet as Snape and Sirius stepped towards one another.

"I'll be fine in a few minutes; it's just the after-effects of the floo," she continued, looking at them both. "I'll just be in the kitchen."

"Well if you're sure," she heard Sirius say behind her, and Cecilia before walking towards the kitchen as the next piece of music filled the air.

Once she was inside she sat down on a chair, fanning herself with the bookmark that Tonks had given her. This was a magical house, for heaven's sake; surely one of them could have done something about the temperature of the living room?

She leaned back in a chair and stretched her legs, feeling the blood return to them and sighed, thinking at how great the evening had been so far…dressing up in fancy clothes…dancing…happy, smiling people…home tomorrow…

The thought lingered in Cecilia's mind as she considered what that would mean. All of those things that would have happened since July. Time would have moved on without her being there; changes would have taken place that she wouldn't have been aware of.

Was that a bad thing? Cecilia asked herself. Was not being in the muggle world, as she herself referred to the non-magic part, would that make a difference to her?

Well, she wouldn't be there too long; she would be returning to help Snape with the potion, and to check, if what Remus was alluding to was correct, that her original work was correct by analysing Lily's DNA at her old work, if she could.

Cecilia looked round the kitchen as she thought about the numerous possibilities that she must consider…work…being at Hogwarts…the science _and_ the magic…and –

- a pair of eyes were peering at her from behind the dresser. They blinked when they realised Cecilia had noticed them and their owner pulled back, as a frightened child might do if surprised.

"Hello?" she said, still looking in the direction of the eyes and leaning forward. "Anyone there?"

"Hello." The voice behind Cecilia made her jump, and the same pair of eyes she had just seen over _there _were standing _here_, with the rest of their owner. "How may I be of service?"

Cecilia looked in astonishment the gnarled creature, about two feet in height and dressed in a filthy rag addressed her.

"Er…" she began. "You're a…a house elf, aren't you?" she smiled kindly as the creature nodded slowly. "A house elf like Dobby?" At the name, the house elf frowned.

"We do not speak of him; the blood traitor to us all. He has dishonoured us by becoming a free elf." The house elf stared back expressionless, having spoken monotonously, as if reciting something it had learned.

"Yes, I would like something," continued Cecilia, changing the subject. "A glass of water, please..." she stopped as the house elf clicked his fingers and a tumbler of water appeared instantaneously on the table before her.

"My name's Cecilia Frobisher. What's yours?"

"Kreacher," said the house elf. "The younger. My father was also Kreacher." Cecilia smiled again, waiting for Kreacher to return the smile. He didn't.

"In that case, Kreacher, thank you for the glass of water. I'm sure it will be most refreshing." Cecilia carried on smiling, watching the elf hop about between one foot and another, in the same way Cecilia recalled Dobby doing when he was nervous.

"Oh yes. Kreacher thinks that Cecilia Frobisher the muggle should drink it all, straight away." His voice sounded somewhat hollow, Cecilia considered. But he seemed friendly enough, as house elves went, and she picked up the glass of water.

Just then, Remus entered the kitchen, opening the door with a swish. As he approached Cecilia, she felt a dash of breeze by the table and she looked down as Kreacher hurried off in the direction of the dresser again.

"There you are," he said, sitting down next to her. "How are you feeling now?" Cecilia smiled and put down the glass of water.

"Better," she replied. "Just felt a bit light-headed, that's all." Remus watched as she shifted in her chair and wiped her brow.

"Sirius'll get you like that," laughed Remus, and Cecilia laughed too, pushing down the memories of her birthday morning.

"No," she replied, "just the effects of the floo. It would be nice to be able to travel like that without feeling so ill. What's flying like?"

"Not too bad," chuckled Remus, "though not much fun when it's windy." As he spoke, Remus reached into his robe, and pulled out a box. Cecilia's mind began to wander as she saw it: did it contain a ring? An engagement ring for Tonks?"

She tried not to look surprised as Remus opened it, but indeed she was for, as Remus undid the lid, inside the velvet-lied box sat not a ring, but a brooch.

"Merry Christmas," said Remus, holding the brooch closer to Cecilia so the colourful gemstones shimmered in their holdings in the candle-light. "It's not much, and it's not magical. But I thought you'd like it," he said. Cecilia looked down in awe.

"Erm, thank you," Cecilia replied, looking up from the brooch to Remus. "It's lovely. I used to have one very similar at home. It's very pretty," she added.

"A thank you, really," continued Remus, looking at her watching him unclip it from the box fabric. "I have been so worried about Harry; about the future; about everything that's going on…" he stopped speaking as he handed the brooch to Cecilia, watching as she pinned it to her robe. "I hope you don't mind me telling you…"

Cecilia shook her head, looking carefully at Remus. He was not quite as smartly dressed as some of the other wizards at the ball; not that it mattered, although Cecilia couldn't remember when she had last seen him in anything other than faded Harristwill clothing.

Not only that, he looked almost ill; the dark shadows around his eyes looked much the same as her own had done a few weeks ago, and Cecilia bit her tongue to prevent her from asking him outright about Tonks, and his feelings for Lily; an issue that she knew was perturbing the young witch.

"Not at all," she replied, touching him on his arm. "There's not just you and Sirius who care about Harry. He is a very personable young man, if a little impetuous…"

"A little?" laughed Remus.

"All right then, a lot," said Cecilia. "But without him, there would be no hope. No way in for you as wizards and no hope for muggles. I told you he and Ron found the key, that they found Raymond Lully in my computer print-outs from when we did the DNA sampling?"

"Yes, you told all of us, Cecilia," said Remus gently. "You are so wonderfully dedicated to your work that you thought nothing of sharing all of this with the Order. I think it's simply marvellous that –" Remus stopped in the process of patting Cecilia's hand, which was still on his arm when the kitchen door opened again.

"What's this?" Sirius looked between Cecilia and Remus. Remus withdrew his hand and looked at his friend, wearily. "Cecilia? How are you feeling?"

"Much better," replied Cecilia, smiling at Sirius and taking her hand away from Remus's arm, swallowing as she saw Sirius's eyes follow the wake of her arm movement. He turned to his friend.

"Tonks is looking for you, Remus," he said, smiling then turning to Cecilia pointed to her glass. "I see you have been suitably refreshed," he continued, sitting down in Remus's chair as Remus quickly left the kitchen without looking back. Cecilia turned her head in his direction, watching him leave, before turning her attention back to Sirius.

"How are you feeling?" he continued; his dark eyes shimmering in the lamplight of the kitchen. "Better now?" Cecilia nodded.

"It's probably all that hard work that you've been doing recently. I don't think I've ever known anyone to work as hard for anything." Cecilia smiled again, feeling herself blush at the praise.

"It's nothing, really," she replied modestly, looking into his eyes. "I did what I could – "

"You've done more than that. You've changed it all – changed the world, Cecilia, with your work. What you've found, and the work that is to come; that will be so important to our worlds when this evil that Voldermort is peddling has come to an end."

Cecilia swallowed. Keep your head woman, she told herself, even though that dance just then was wonderful and these words of commendation beguiling.

"There was a time, not so many months ago when you're view in this matter was different, Sirius." She looked at him carefully, pushing down her feelings of flattery until they were no more than a whisper beneath her steady reason. "Have you really come to accept all of this?"

"I never intended to harm you –"

"That's not what I asked. You are still concerned about Harry." Cecilia looked at him carefully and Sirius nodded, getting to his feet. He began to pace towards the back door, and Cecilia thought that he was about to open it to leave. She opened her mouth as if to qualify her last comment when Sirius turned, his face a mask of concern and his steady voice veined with apprehension.

"You have to understand that I am not at all happy with Harry's decision to co-operate with all of this. There will be no guarantees of his safety when this plan finally comes to fruition. As his godfather, I would have him safe. But, as a wizard, and knowing that I lost two of my best friends not long after he was born, I realise that he –" he stopped, looking at Cecilia's face, " – must choose what he thinks is right. He is almost Of Age…"

Sirius's voice trailed off into the distance and Cecilia looked at him, wanting to say something comforting: to say she wouldn't let anything happen to Harry; to say she would look after him; to reassure him. She got to her feet, smoothing down the satin of her gown to straighten it.

"Severus will do what he can," she said. "And I will, when I return." Sirius looked at her; his eyes shimmering.

"You're returning? I was under the impression this was a farewell occasion. May I ask what made you change your mind?"

"Severus," said Cecilia. "His talent and belief it will work. Also I feel a loyalty to make sure Harry is safe."

"You are close."

"I teach Harry," Cecilia replied. "And he has spoken to me at school about – "

"No, Snivellus," said Sirius. "Snape," he corrected himself. Cecilia dropped her gaze and looked at the floor, feeling herself flush.

"I, er, well…" she began. "We share common work, and we are close in that respect…"

"Harry seems to think you are," he replied. "I got a letter from him a week ago." Cecilia nodded.

"Well I've just spent the last four months working with him on something very secret and specialist so it's not surprising, in that respect," she conceded. "I have only ever met two other people with his intellect in my life." She looked at him earnestly. "Believe me when I say we are lucky to have him in the Order." Sirius snorted.

"In that case I wish he had been on our side the first time round," he said, glancing at Cecilia. "But it doesn't matter now; we do," he added, "and soon this will be over." Sirius walked over to the door, holding it open. The music from the living room emanated into the kitchen and he smiled.

"Are you feeling better?" Cecilia nodded.

"Come on then," he said, beckoning her towards the living room. "I want to see what happens between Bill and Charlie; they've got a bet going with Arthur that Bertie can't drink eighteen butterbeers before the end of the evening." Cecilia laughed as she followed him out of the kitchen.

The room was a little more crowded now; it looked as if more people had got up to dance to the music that had just been playing, and the bustle of the atmosphere was beautiful. Just what a Christmas Eve party should be like…

…Cecilia turned her head just as the music changed and she saw Snape heading her way, looking between her and Sirius, and Cecilia smiled in his direction. As she did so, Sirius took her by the hand, ready to lead her onto the already filling dancefloor.

"Would you do me the honour of a second dance, Mrs Frobisher?" She looked back at Sirius and then at Snape, preferring the latter of the two wizards were she to have a choice. As the music grew in volume, she looked at Snape, as much as to tell him this and his pace quickened in their direction.

"Actually, I –" she began, feeling flushed at the warmth of the living room again.

"Actually, I think you'll find Cecilia is my partner, Black," Snape intoned, approaching them. "Cecilia," he added, holding out his right hand and glaring at Sirius. Cecilia felt Sirius tighten his grip and stare back, stubbornly. Cecilia swallowed, not knowing what to do.

Just as she was about to turn down both offers, she saw Dumbledore behind Sirius. The introduction to the music began and Dumbledore began to speak.

"Mrs Frobisher, I trust you are feeling much better?" Cecilia nodded.

"Much better," she confirmed, looking back at him firmly. "And I was wondering, Professor, if – " Dumbledore held up a hand.

"And if I may say, quite the most fetching muggle we have here this evening. So it would be my honour if you were to dance the next waltz with myself."

"Of course," replied Snape, and Cecilia smiled, registering his left arm flinching slightly involuntarily. "I am sure I speak for both of us when I say we can wait until the next dance," he added, glaring at Sirius, who nodded stiffly.

"Then, Mrs Frobisher, shall we dance?"

Cecilia took Dumbledore's hand, smiling at Sirius and Snape graciously, and sighing inwardly as her dilemma disappeared. The introduction was just coming to an end; the beat slow and steady, and she stood in position, waiting for the music to begin…

…and as she danced with nearly all the other wizards in the room, making polite conversation with the head of the Order of the Phoenix, one amongst many of his titles, Cecilia felt herself relax, the feeling of dancing slowly with Dumbledore as he led her smoothly and lightly around the dancefloor…

…and as they danced, Snape took up his drink again, watching her move elegantly and beautifully from his position near the door, trying to forget about the stinging irritation building up on his arm.

As Dumbledore turned them so she was facing his way, Severus Snape had to keep himself from tearing back onto the dancefloor and taking her back in his arms as Cecilia Frobisher smiled in his direction…

…but not in his direction…a few feet away stood Lupin, and he returned the smile, which was obviously meant for him…

"And I really didn't think you were the muggle's type," hissed Sirius Black, his voice coming from his right shoulder. "Dare I ask why your left arm is twitching so absently, Professor Snape? Perhaps you have a ring in your pocket that you can't wait to pull out – "

Snape turned angrily and faced a sneering Sirius.

"No!" exclaimed Snape, defensively.

"Then why did you make an appearance with her here tonight, Snape, other than the obvious?" Sirius grinned wider, delighting in the discomfort he was inflicting on his old adversary.

"It was an attempt to ensure I still would have a work colleague following your little soiree, Black." He looked at Sirius, his retribution beginning to grow. "And to protect her from your womanising ways. I know of your little liaison in October – very neat, even if I do say so myself. Even I would not have been able to come up with a plan as devious as yours Black, not even I…" Snape sneered and this time it was Sirius's turn to look taken aback.

"And I of yours, and if you stop me Snivellus, I will tell her. Or at least, allow her to conveniently find out…"

"You wouldn't dare risk – " Snape put a hand inside his robe, backing Sirius underneath the stairs, into the deeper shadows.

"…and then who would she turn to, Snivellus? Tell me that? It can't be too long until you need to leave to get to the other party you need to attend this evening…" Sirius looked at Snape as he lowered is wand, rubbing his left forearm. Snape followed his gaze, then looked back at Dumbledore and Cecilia, as they continued into the second stanza of the waltz.

"…and I expect the evenings of the two of you working ever so hard into the early hours at Hogwarts won't be half so cosy once the muggle is fully aware of what you have in store for her – " Sirius stopped, grinning again as Snape thrust his right arm across his chest, trying hard not to wince at the obvious pain he was in.

"…that is not the case…Cecilia will be perfectly safe, as well you know…" replied Snape, grimacing through gritted teeth.

"Really, Snivellus? You do surprise me. Perhaps when I tell her, and she has allowed me to console her in my own _special _way – " he smirked as Snape made to take a step towards him, stopping short of Sirius and grasping his left arm again, "…I can see to it that she is restored to her own insular little world without the weight of all of this on her mind…"

"I will…not permit it…" gasped Snape, the pain so intense now that he couldn't hide it in his voice. "If she goes…we will _never_ be free of the Dark Lord…and your beloved Godson will be ever in fear of his life…" Snape exhaled, the pain creeping its way up to the shoulder, and took a step back when he realised that Lupin's attention had been caught by their exchange.

"Wizards have died!" Sirius took a step forward into the space Snape had stood, hissing the words towards his adversary. "Good wizards, to save her…that muggle there – " he stabbed the air in the direction of the dancefloor. "So unless you wish me to reveal all to my party guests _now_, Snivellus…" he took another step, and Snape stepped back again, towards the door, "…I suggest you leave my house _now_…" he poked his finger in the direction of the hall door now, "…and attend to your _other_ business…" Sirius smirked with triumph as Snape looked at Cecilia again, and turning towards the door.

"Dumbledore will hear of this!" he hissed, as Sirius continued to grin.

"Everything OK?" asked Remus, who had approached them when he had overheard hushed, angry voices.

"Perhaps Lupin, I might trouble you to look after Mrs Frobisher? I am…unavoidably required elsewhere…" Snape gripped his arm, and Remus nodded briefly and, as the music drew to a close, he watched Snape wrench the door open and slam it behind it. He looked at Sirius, who was still grinning and who grinned wider still as they heard a 'crack' in the hall, which Remus presumed was the Snape leaving the party.

"And what was that all about?" said Remus, folding his arms. "And, have you been on the spirits, Padfoot?" he added rebukefully as a waft of hot whisky emanated across from his friend. Sirius patted him on the shoulder.

"Just getting rid of unwanted guests! Relax, Moony. I've only had one glass," he added, looking past Remus as he saw his cousin approaching now the dance was over. "Look, I think old Tonks is looking for you," he added, changing the subject and gesturing towards his cousin. Remus nodded at Sirius and smiled politely at Tonks.

"Ready?" she asked, looking at Remus. "A talk, you said, just now – " she prompted, when she met the look of confusion on his face and it changed to an expression of comprehension and he gestured towards the door.

"Ah," said Sirius, tapping his nose, "private. But if Snivellus is still out there tell him to clear off." Tonks looked questioningly at Remus as she stepped through the door he had opened and he gave her an "I'll explain later look"…

…and Cecilia smiled at the wonderfully…magical – that _was_ an appropriate adjective to use for her waltz with Dumbledore – magical dance. He had spoken softly to her as stepped it out, wishing her a peaceful few days at home and as they danced Cecilia was overcome with the feeling that everything was now right with the world…

…only…when the dance had finished and she had graciously curtseyed as Dumbledore bowed…not quite everything was as right as her mind suggested. For one thing, Tonks had come through the adjoining door as the music stopped and gone through to the hall with Remus. They were clearly in a hurry but, by the look on Tonks's face she seemed anything but happy…

…Cecilia excused herself from Dumbledore's company and looked around for Snape too, who had been standing near the door too, but – she couldn't see him.

Smiling graciously at the other wizards she passed on her way towards the door, she noticed Sirius smiling in her direction.

"How was the dance?" he asked, as she came nearer. "You seem to be quite at home with our chief out there," he added, putting a hand on her shoulder. Cecilia ignored the shiver that his touch induced, looking round then back at Sirius.

"Have you seen Severus around? I thought I saw him over here with you when I was dancing."

"Gone," replied Sirius, continuing to smile and not removing his hand. "He had an urgent appointment to keep."

"Appointment…?"

"With – " Sirius leaned towards Cecilia, hot breath on her neck, rubbing his left arm in imitation. " – You-Know-Who. I assumed he would have told you he'd have to leave tonight." Cecilia shook her head, as did Sirius.

"If it had been me, nothing would have come between me and the beautiful woman _I'd_ invited to a party," he continued. "He – "

Just then, the door swung open between them. Cecilia stepped back from Sirius as Tonks strode between them. She looked at Cecilia who gasped when she saw the young witch had tears in her eyes. As Tonks took a few steps, she followed her, shrugging off Sirius as she went.

"Tonks?" she asked, as they passed through groups of wizards, standing and sitting, chatting merrily as the background music continued to play softly. Tonks got as far as the stairs before she acknowledged Cecilia was there.

"Not here," she whispered, leaning over the banister and looking around the living room. Cecilia looked too, and though one or two of them had noticed them pass, no-one was paying a great deal of attention to Tonks.

"Upstairs," she added and made her way upstairs; her gait slow and unsteady. As she followed, Cecilia looked back at the wizards again, looking for Remus. What had he said to her to make her feel so upset?

Tonks pushed open her bedroom door, at the end of the first floor, flopping onto her bed. Cecilia followed her in and sat on her own, looking at her with increasing sadness. Eventually, when she could bear the candle-light flickering off Tonks's dull grey hair no longer, she spoke.

"Sometimes it's easier to talk about it. Though you don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to. We can just stay here." Tonks didn't move, but her breathing became slower and more regular, as if she was trying to hold onto her temper. Eventually she turned, and sat upright and Cecilia was shocked to see her usual jolly and carefree eyes red and sore.

"You look beautiful, Cecilia," she said eventually. "That dress looks gorgeous on you, and it's not just me that thinks it." She smiled encouragingly as Cecilia bowed her head bashfully.

"Well, without your help, and Hermione's – "

"Oh come on," said Tonks, getting to her feet, her hair changing colours as she spoke. "You're stunning! I've never seen a roomful of wizards go as quiet as when you and Snape walked in this evening. And Sirius hasn't been able to take his eyes off you all evening…" she stopped and Cecilia realised she had got to her feet. She looked at Tonks then looked away, feeling a blush creep onto her face.

"Yes, well, your cousin," Cacilia said, trying to sound dismissive. "I didn't come here dressed like this for his benefit."

"But you do like him," prompted Tonks, earnestly. "I can see he likes you; I've never seen him dance like that with anyone before, and y…you seemed so contented and happy with him. And after what you told me that happened between you before…"

"Tonks," said Cecilia, fighting to remain calm. "What happened with Remus? Would you like to tell me about it?" She looked at Tonks, who sank onto Cecilia's bed and Cecilia felt a wave of compassion as tears began to flow down her cheeks and onto her purple dress, making the fabric damp in places. Cecilia sat next to her, and took her hand, fighting her mind's urge to speculate, because speculation would lead to…thoughts of…

…time passed and the tears stopped eventually. Tonks looked up child-like at Cecilia, wiping her tears away and Cecilia tried to fix her mind on the music coming up from downstairs rather than what it was Tonks was about to tell her.

"Remus wanted to talk to me. He…he seemed…different, Cecilia. He was different to the Remus I know."

"Different?"

"Vague. Unclear. Aloof." Her cried-out eyes shimmered, and Cecilia leaned towards Tonks, hugging her comfortingly.

"Before he had a chance to tell me, I told him." Tonks got to her feet and began to pace before Cecilia. "I told him I didn't want to be with him. I turned Remus down, Cecilia." She looked earnestly at Cecilia before continuing. "I told him I don't want to marry him. I know there's someone else in his heart. I told him that…and he couldn't deny it to my face." Cecilia felt her heart lurch as her friend spoke, plunging towards her stomach.

"Lily," clarified Tonks, tears beginning again. "He still loves Lily. And because of that, he couldn't propose to me." She looked at Cecilia again. "And because he is such a lovely man, he couldn't tell me either." Sitting down next to her, Tonks began to cry again, and her pink hair began to change colour again, flitting through various hues before blurring to the dull grey tone.

"So, before he had a chance to tell you he wanted to marry you, and was tongue tied, by the sounds of it, you made an assumption, and wouldn't let him speak?" Cecilia spoke kindly and softly, as if to a teenager. "You presume he still loves Lily?" Tonks nodded, as tears continued to fall.

"But he wants to marry you, Tonks. You've been together – "

"Not officially, but – "

"…together for years," Cecilia continued evenly. "Why are you doubting your own heart?"

"I'm not," replied Tonks, sharply, "but – " She stopped, looking at Cecilia with a wave of realisation on her face.

"…but…he hesitated…a…a…and…I didn't want to make it hard for him…" she looked at Cecilia earnestly.

"Anyone can see how much you care for one another," continued Cecilia, hugging the young witch to herself by the shoulder, comfortingly. "I've never seen two people so suited…"

"That's what everyone says," Tonks said, nodding in agreement.

"Do you mind if I ask you something, Tonks?"

"...no…Cecilia, of course you can…"

"What are you scared of?" Tonks looked at Cecilia, confused.

"I don't know what you mean…" she began, then looked back at Cecilia, realisation passing over her face like a wave.

"…I've waited so long for this…I just didn't want him not to ask me…I built it up so much in my mind that I got worked up… but, what if my feelings have changed…and what if his have too...oh Gods…" she paused, staring back at Cecilia, some inner turmoil becalmed, "…what have I done? This is such a mess..." Tonks held her head in her hands, shaking it from side to side.

"…hnnnkew…" she looked at Cecilia, "…sorry…" she got to her feet, almost knocking off the oil lamp from its hook by the window as she turned. "Thank you. I don't know what came over me." Cecilia smiled kindly for what felt like the eightieth time during their conversation, trying to stop her feelings of…no. Stop. You mustn't think about that, not now, of all times, not with what Tonks had told her.

"It's this war! This horrible war that's affected our lives! The fact that we don't know where we are from one day to the next. I'm just so worried that each time I see him it might be the last time I ever see him. If I don't come back, or if he…" Tonks's voice trailed off, the confusion seemingly confusing her, now.

"What would you have said if he had have proposed, Tonks?" said Cecilia,

"I don't know. Yes, I suppose. But then, I'm sure that would have been wrong, even though everyone expects it. It's not like I don't love him, and it wouldn't be wrong then." She looked at Cecilia wide-eyed. "Oh, Cecilia, I feel so confused! I never let him get a word in edgeways and now I'll never know!"

"I think you should wait here a bit," said Cecilia, patting Tonks's shoulder. "I think you've got yourself worked up over nothing." Tonks nodded. "Do you feel better?" Tonks nodded again, and smiled gratefully at Cecilia.

"I'm so glad you're stopping here tonight, Cecilia. Look, Kreacher even brought up your bags." She took a few steps towards Cecilia's luggage, her own problems seemingly forgotten quickly, or at least put firmly to one side. "So you're planning on just a quiet break at home then, are you?"

"No, certainly not. I've got far too much to think of for when I come back. Too many avenues to explore and not enough pairs of shoes."

"What? You're still doing research?" Tonks turned to her in astonishment. "I thought you'd finished now you've got the Universal connection." Cecilia exhaled, considering how to put it.

"I have," said Cecilia. "The evidence fits, as does everything we've done so far. It's not that…" She brushed aside the long folds of her dress and bent towards the second of her bags, taking out her most recent notebook and looking between it and Tonks. "It's just so novel, this work. I just have to be sure." Cecilia tossed the open book onto her own bed. "I'll stop when I've checked everything. No stone unturned. Just to be sure."

"I wish I were as dedicated as you," said Tonks. "I come in from a shift and can't wait to forget all about it. But you…you're never away. It's always going on in your mind, even when you're enjoying yourself. I wish I was more like you."

"Years of practice," said Cecilia, ignoring the growing urge to shout at the girl, at her idiocy for mistaking chronic insecurity for something to be proud of. "And besides, you're perfect as you are, Tonks. Besides, you wouldn't want to be a muggle now, would you?"

"I'm part-muggle, Cecilia," Tonks said, reprovingly. "Sometimes I think I wouldn't be as foolish if I were." She sat back down on her own bed and, taking up a pillow, hugged it tightly. Cecilia at next to her, noticing the music change to a dance below them, and she smiled comfortingly at Tonks.

"Would you like me to stay?" she asked eventually.

"No. Go and enjoy the party. I won't be long. Just till I get this out of my system."

Once Cecilia had closed Tonks's bedroom door, eliminating most of the light from the room save a small strip by her feet, she leaned against the door in the darkness and clenched her fists.

Stupid, stupid! she rebuked herself sternly, throwing her arms down sharply by her sides. Why had she been so stupid as to let herself be talked into coming here tonight? In this stupid, but gorgeous dress? To get involved with these people as if they were like her?

How could she be so two-faced to console the girl when deep inside she felt – no! Don't think it!

Cecilia's mind raced and she looked down the landing towards the music that was coming up from the living room. This place…so like her world…the social atmosphere tonight, like a work Christmas party. And she'd fallen for it like it was natural. Why? How come she had been so eager to accept the position in then first place, so quickly?

She looked up towards the stairs that led to the second floor. Had Tim really screwed her up in the mind that badly?

Well I came here to do a job, not to get involved with the lives of these people, she told herself firmly as she strode towards the stairs. Tomorrow I'll be home, and I can sort myself out. Sort out my priorities, see the important people in my life.

Taking the first two, Cecilia hosted up the skirt of her dress so she didn't trip over it on the stairs and was glad she could remember where Sirius's study was. Therapeutic, that's what it had been, she thought as she got to the top of the stairs.

Terrifying and demanding, definitely. But the time had come to take a step back and concentrate on what she had been tasked to do and that was to help Severus with the potion. And she would be able to do that when she had got the magic out of her system.

Severus. Getting to the top of the stairs Cecilia crept along the landing towards where she remembered the study to be. Surely he would have mentioned that he had to go if he knew. So probably he didn't know. Sirius knew though, and he was the last person Severus would have told.

Cecilia stopped as she got to the door. Placing her hand on the handle, she began to turn it, steeling her mind to the work she must do.

The study was still lit, with oil lamps on the walls, as it had been two weeks ago when she had looked at the books in here then. Cecilia blinked as she looked around at the shelves, trying to make sense of where she needed to continue from. All these books, she thought. There had to be something in these, some answers more than she had found before.

Carefully lifting a book off the shelf carefully, looking down the contents list randomly for anything that might be relevant to the loose ends that she had exposed at the edge of her research: Lully…Joseph Black…energy, light, magic…Oswald T…reciprocator…

Once she had repeated the process on the fourteenth book, Cecilia replaced it back on the shelf, sighing at her own ineffective process. Was there anything here at all that was going to be useful?

Her eye rested on the spine of another book, "Ye Auld Magick". Maybe this one would have some of the answers. She raised her hand to the book, then stopped. Perhaps she could ask Sirius is she could come here tomorrow, to look at his books. If she had her notes, she could go over them again. At least she had remembered to pack them.

Glancing form the book she thought about Tonks, sitting in her room alone. Maybe she wasn't there now. She wasn't the kind of character who would sit round feeling sorry for herself. Tonks was probably downstairs right now, dancing with Remus and enjoying herself.

Which is where you should be, having fun, she scolded herself. There's nothing you can do here now, tonight. It's Christmas Eve, after all.

Ignoring the books and stepping back out onto the landing and closing the study door behind her, Cecilia turned in the darkness in the direction of the stairs and gasped when she felt a hand on hers.

"Cecilia," she heard Sirius say near her ear. "And where have you been?" She turned quickly in the direction of his voice.

"Sirius!" she exclaimed. "You scared me. I, er…I was…"

"Just in the study, looking at my books again," he said and, as the darkness on the landing faded Cecilia saw Sirius smiling at her, wand in hand.

"You only had to ask," he continued. "Find anything interesting?" Cecilia shook her head.

"I assumed you wouldn't mind," she said, glancing down at her hand, still on the doorknob with Sirius's still on hers. "I haven't got my notes, so I thought I'd ask you to look tomorrow, if that would be OK."

"I thought you were leaving tomorrow?"

"Well before I leave," she clarified. "If that's OK with you," she added, in a mock-deferential tone.

"We could look now," said Sirius, his eyes shimmering in the dim lamplight. "Tell me what you're looking for and perhaps we could save you some time."

Without waiting for her to reply, he turned her hand on the knob and ushered her through the study door, is left hand on her back.

"OK, where'll we start?" said Cecilia, looking round the study, before turning back to Sirius. "Thank you so much; it'll be so – "

Before she could finish the sentence, either aloud or in her mind, Sirius took a step towards her. Without saying anything, he looked straight into her eyes; the darkness therein making Cecilia gasp.

She opened her mouth to speak as he pulled her closer to him, and she realised she was trembling.

"Don't say anything," Sirius said softly. "Since you walked through the door this evening I haven't been able to think of anything else."

Cecilia felt his hand on her back as he kissed her firmly but softly on the lips and her mind, hitherto filled with thoughts of her research, was overwhelmed with the feelings that she had tried to deny this evening and over the last few months.

As quickly as he had kissed her, Sirius now broke off and looked at her. Brushing her cheek with the back of his hand he smiled softly as Cecilia looked into his eyes.

"I've been wanting to do that since your birthday," he said, trailing his hand from her cheek to her chin, placing her thumb onto the dimple on her chin and moving down her lower jaw. Without warning, he kissed her again, this time much deeper, and with more passion, causing Cecilia to gasp at the intensity which made her take a step back to keep her balance.

Sirius stepped towards her too, and another, still kissing her until her back was against the cerulean wallpaper of the study wall. Cecilia kissed him back now; her willpower trying to gain her attention from the corner of her subconscious, but being prevented from building up strength because of the pincer movement being expertly performed by her passion and desire…

…and Sirius continued as kiss her…his hand on her hip…she gasped as he worked his hand down her leg…finding the hem of her dress…

…as he kissed her with more passion, Cecilia felt her heart beating much faster, and a feeling creep over her as Sirius worked his hand up her bare leg…images filling her mind…

Cecilia pulled apart from their embrace, looking down at the floor as a feeling of guilt washed over her.

"…sorry…" she said, looking at Sirius. His eyes, filled momentarily with confusion, became stormy dark pools again and before Cecilia could take the steps that her mind was willing her to take towards the door and through it, Sirius had pushed her back against the wall again, this time entangling his fingers into her hair as he kissed her more passionately now than Cecilia could ever have imagined.

There was no denying that it felt good. Instinctively, Cecilia returned Sirius's kiss and as he worked his hand up from her back this time, up her ribcage, stopping at the top of the ruching and tracing his hand along her halterneck he pressed her more firmly against the wall. But another feeling, uncomfortable and perturbed pricked her mind…the feeling was good, in itself…but why was _this_ so wrong?

…and she felt Sirius's hip knock against hers; the response between them made it clear what his intentions were and what sprang to her conscious were…images from Minerva's memory of Sirius…of James…Lily…Remus…Remus. Why was she thinking of Remus Lupin as Sirius Black was kissing her so passionately?

"Stop," she gasped, breaking from his firm grip again and fighting all thoughts of Remus from her mind, but Sirius didn't; his hands continue to touch her and he continued to hold her between his body and the wall. Desperately, Cecilia pushed him away, ducking under his arm, but he caught her left hand and swung her back, the tendons in her arm bending painfully.

"You want it, Cecilia Frobisher, you know you do." His dark eyes flashed as he pulled her closer to him as he hissed in her direction. Despite herself, Cecilia shivered at his touch again and she felt her heart racing in her chest. He was right. She did want it. She could so easily give in to this. But it would be wrong. And why did he want her so badly? She wasn't his type.

"Leave me alone, Sirius," Cecilia said loudly, trying to wrestle her arm from his grip, but Sirius merely grinned and pulled her arm roughly towards him.

"Why?" He looked her up and down as he spoke and Cecilia shivered again, more from an increasing feeling of fear now, rather than pleasure. "We're just getting started," Sirius added, looking into her eyes and tracing his left hand onto her collar bone. Cecilia looked from his hand back to his eyes.

"Please Sirius, no," she insisted sharply. "Look, I – "

"Why do you think you're so high and mighty?" Sirius snapped, stepping away from her. "You come here, dressed like that…" he gestured his hand towards her "…and you tell me no?" Cecilia stepped towards the door, looking in the direction of the furious Sirius.

"Look – " Cecilia tried again, opening the study door with her left hand. "Sirius…I don't think that. This is just too fast," she added lamely. Sirius's eyes narrowed as the study door swung open on its hinges.

"You preach about muggle and wizard similarities, but when it comes down to it do you think yourself so different not to go with a wizard?." Cecilia could feel her mouth open, recalling the conversation she had had with Tonks all those weeks ago and felt her face begin to blush.

"As I am here on Order business, and I was invited by yourself because of that to the party, I don't think you really have any call to ask me that," replied Cecilia, an element of rebukeful teacher entering her tone. "But before I rejoin my colleagues, if you insist on an answer then I tell you now that there is not one wizard I would, as you so tastefully put it, go with."

Turning on her heel, Cecilia made for the open door, but Sirius was too quick for her, and slammed it shut. Cecilia felt herself jump back in shock, and looked quickly at Sirius who was standing next to her.

"That's a lie…I can see it in your face, Cecilia." His words were cold now, blowing like a winter wind in her face as Sirius looked her up and down, taking in her dress, figure and shoes. Cecilia looked away and took a step back, noticing a look of desire pass over his features. She put her hand on the doorknob and opened the door again, stepping through into the dark landing and leaving Sirius inside the study.

Just as Cecilia was about to take a step, Sirius grabbed her wrist, pulling her back inside. She winced at the pain, as he took a few steps towards her, throwing the door shut again.

You tease," hissed Sirius, looking Cecilia up and down, taking in her hair, her dress; his eyes lingering momentarily on the brooch Remus had given to her, down to her dress and shoes and Cecilia shuddered, not from desire any more, but out of fear.

"Pathetic really, now Snivellus isn't here to defend you. Those long nights studying with him have made you crave proper male company. Then again, what you were studying, that's the big question. It must be something worthwhile for you to leap to his defence so readily…"

Cecilia looked back at Sirius, her mind racing through the options that she now had available. She had spurned his advances and had made him angry. And she could smell a faint tinge of alcohol on his breath too, couldn't she? What had made him desire her so badly…?

"Oh yes, Snivellus's pet puppy, all groomed and ready for the big party!" Sirius laughed at his own taunt, as he gripped her wrist tighter.

…and that was it, wasn't it? What her mind had been trying to tell her a long time ago? Sirius wanted her because he wanted to get at Severus, not because of her…like when he was seventeen years old…

"How dare you?!" exclaimed Cecilia, shaking her hand free and fixing him with an indignant stare.

"You do know he's not pure blood," hisses Sirius darkly.

"Do you think I care about that just because you do? Do you think it would shock me? I've known for a very long time, Sirius – " She watched his face grow darker, and his eyes shimmering in the light.

"Snivellus told you? He wouldn't!" he spat, stepping towards Cecilia and she felt her heart beat faster behind her beautiful dress, "you're a liar; all of your type are!"

As he took another step towards her, but this time, Cecilia was too quick. Through the open door she went, throwing off his inaccurate grab of her shoulder. Heart beating quicker again, she scooped up her dress and hurried down the stairs, tripping down the last couple of stairs.

In front of her, music permeated up from downstairs and she paused at the top step, smoothing down her dress and adjusting her bodice, ignoring Sirius's shouts of indignation behind her.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Cecilia heard as she was halfway down the first flight of stairs and she turned to see Sirius behind her, his face twisted in fury.

Cecilia turned back and below her she could see shadows of people on the floor at the bottom but before she could hurry towards the safety of others, Sirius grabbed her arm.

"So arrogant; which is dangerous considering your protector Snivellis is not here to defend you," he spat, his face close to hers. "I really pity him, having to put up with a cumbersome baggage like you," he continued, his spirit-tinged breath on her face, "but with his plan of selling you to his Death Eater friends for the price of his freedom I can see how even that would be tolerable. That and anything else you are willing to give him, of course."

Cecilia looked back at Sirius. Here she was, halfway down the stairs in his house. An hour ago he had been dancing with her. Fifteen minutes ago he was trying to tear her clothes off. And now here he was, with a far-fetched story about Snape, who wasn't even here to defend herself. She felt her eyes narrow at the ludicrousness of his suggestion and scorn filled her mind.

"You're sick!" she spat back. "Sick in the mind, Sirius. Do you think that I'm going to believe anything you say about Severus, considering your past history?" He loosened his grip and she turned again, picking up the skirt of her dress and walked down a few more steps, fighting out thoughts of Sirius and trying desperately to replace them with those of home, her home. If she asked someone here; they could probably take her tonight…

"You don't believe me? I don't believe that you trust a Death Eater like him!" he shouted after her. "A muggle like you should take all the advice she should get, especially with _his_ past history."

And that was the moment, Cecilia would tell herself that she should have turned to her right, now she had got to the bottom of the stairs; she should have ignored Sirius and rejoined the party. What she shouldn't have done was what she did do. What she shouldn't have done was…

"You know, I would trust him a thousand times over you, Sirius," she shouted back, glancing from the wizards who were chatting and laughing, clearly still enjoying the party. One or two noticed that she was there, and had waved in acknowledgement.

"Don't you dare walk away from me you, _dimwitted muggle_!" Sirius hurried down the stairs and stood in front of her. Cecilia stopped, backing towards the kitchen door. Why was he behaving like this? As she turned, she saw he had a book…

…Sirius held up her research book and Cecilia looked between it and Sirius. It was the one from their room…where Tonks was. Behind her, she noticed that some of the wizards had stopped now; one or two now had noticed she was there Mr Weasley, Bill holding a glass of pumpkin juice, Sturgis Podmore caught in mid-conversation with Minerva; looking at her in mid-greeting who had stopped in astonishment and surprise at the scene between herself and Sirius.

"You've no right…" Cecilia heard herself croaking; frustration building that a furious Sirius was holding her book so carelessly. As she stared, her face growing redder and more annoyed, he opened it, glancing up from the pages.

"It makes interesting reading, muggle. Especially your last note, right here – " Sirius pointed halfway down the left-hand page where Cecilia had written her shorthand memo about Remus and Lily's DNA. Now more people were turning to look at them, and the gramophone which, until then was playing merrily now en masse, falling silent.

"You have no idea what you're up against," he continued, shaking the book in her direction. "Energy, light and magic? These are people you are dealing with here!"

"I have every idea Sirius," Cecilia replied quickly; keeping her voice as calm as she could. "Why do you think I'm still here, working with wizards – " she glanced at the Order, who were all looking at her and Sirius now, " – working with you?" she added, addressing them.

Looking at the Order of the Phoenix now, Cecilia steeled herself to walk towards the wizards. Between her and safety was empty space which she had to cross slowly and courageously. Holding up her skirt, Cecilia took a step, but Sirius stepped in front of her, fixing her with a stare and Cecilia heard a gasp from behind him and a mutter, which sounded like Molly Weasley saying something to Mr Weasley.

"You are a coward, Cecilia Frobisher. How can you do that to a child? You claim to have Harry's interest at heart and yet you are willing to use his mother to further your foul work."

Cecilia took another step and Sirius raised the book. In his hands he held the last month of her empirical research: the notes that came to her when she was attempting to get to the next step, or bridge a gap. Notes that couldn't be replaced. Cecilia stopped and looked between Sirius's flaring-dark eyes and the book.

"Why are you doing this, Sirius?" She asked the question without meaning to and it hung in the air between them, and between her and the rest of the Order who were still standing silently behind Sirius.

"From your own admission this very evening the universal link is not valid. I make no apology for ensuring the safety of my godson. That no harm comes to him. It is dangerous work that you do, Mrs Frobisher." His eyes glinted now; and Cecilia realised where she had seen the look before. Last time, she was lying on the kitchen floor and Sirius was choking her.

"You don't think I know that?" Cecilia's voice quavered as she spoke. "It's what your community has asked for, what you voted for, unless I'm _very_ much mistaken…"

"You talk as if we are equal!"

"Well if that is so it is because of how I'm treated Sirius, all of these people here," Cecilia retorted, gesturing to the Order. "All have welcomed me, and treated me as such. Tonks…" she looked at Tonks, standing behind Minerva. "Professor Dumbledore...Mr and Mrs Weasley…Remus... Harry…"

At the mention of his name, Cecilia noticed Sirius flinch, as if an electric shock had passed through him. If his eyes betrayed his inner fury before, it was nothing to the expression on Sirius's face now. Cecilia glanced at the Order again and as one, they were now looking at her.

"Don't you _dare_ mention his name with your filthy mouth," screamed Sirius, almost off the floor with rage. "You and Snivellus, you just keep on and on with this idiocy, whatever cost! And I am _not_ going to let the cost be Harry." Sirius took a few steps towards Cecilia again and instinctively she stepped back until she felt the wood of the kitchen door against her back.

"I do believe I've warned you off Harry before, I am sure you remember that; but it seems you don't want to take the hint – " Cecilia glanced frantically between the Order and Sirius now; he was clearly out of his mind, fuelled by alcohol and his transparent prejudice against muggles. She began to tremble as Sirius began to wave her book in her direction.

"These are the people that treat you as equal?" he asked, looking back at the Order. "Yet that cannot be so as they have yet to describe to you what auld magic did at Halloween…"

"I already know," replied Cecilia, above the random gasps from the hitherto mute wizards now. "Again your shocking information has failed, Sirius."

"You know, but not the extent. Not the amount of muggles that were killed. Not who they were. Not the _manner _in which the Death Eaters claimed the lives of your kind – "

"That's enough Sirius." Remus had stepped forward out of the crowd; the stunned mass of wizards now chattering amongst themselves as he did so.

"So, she has you under her spell too, Moony?" Sirius glanced over his shoulder and addressed his friend. "Metaphorically of course, but then after the conversation I heard half an hour ago she just can't stop interfering. How are you and my darling cousin anyway?"

Cruel, thought Cecilia, as she saw Remus glance down, shifting uncomfortably before his friends and colleagues. How could he do this, she thought. It was one thing to attack her, but his best friend?

"Don't think I don't know what you were going to do with this muggle," he continued, waving her book. "You think you're helping Lily and James…and Harry, but you're not, Moony. Not with this filthy muggle." He jerked his head towards Cecilia as he spoke, and she felt herself looking down, feeling a label of shame being pinned to her beautiful dress through every double helix.

"Cecilia is the only chance we've got." Remus looked back at Sirius, trying to reason with him, against his unreasonable charges. "We are _so_ close to this potion; can't you see that this is the best chance we have of getting all of this over with?" Sirius turned to Remus; aggression in his stance as he swaggered with defensive accusations.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you Moony…and the rest of you…" Sirius addressed the other wizards of the Order who were beginning to whisper amongst themselves. "After tonight, you won't be able to carry out your plan…" he turned to look at Remus, "…nor yours, of taking a piece of Lily, so she can study..." Sirius swung round, a look of pure hatred in his expression before looking back to his friend. "Unlike you, I know where my loyalties lie, Remus, I suggest you have a rethink."

"Forget it Remus, it's not worth it." Cecilia felt the words sticking in her dry throat and she took another step towards the wizards; trying to ignore the confusion in her mind now that had been this evening.

"How dare you say I'm not worth it you poisonous little…" snapping the book closed, Sirius dug inside his robe and pulled out his wand and Cecilia felt herself shake again and she looked between it and Sirius's enraged face. "How is it you think yourself better than I? You should know your place…"

…Sirius took a step towards Cecilia…

"…I should have tried harder in the summer..."

…Cecilia tried desperately to open the kitchen door with the handle, fumbling with the handle which failed to gain her access…

…Sirius threw the book onto the floor, kicking it across the floor where it landed a few feet from Cecilia…

…there was nowhere else for her to go as Sirius raised his wand…

"…you filthy muggle…"

"No!" Cecilia felt her mouth open, as if to yell it at Sirius, but no sound came out, and she stood with her back to the kitchen door open-mouthed as he raised his wand…the room was silent as yellow sparks crackled from the end…

…and with a flick of his wrist, Sirius shot a yellow beam of lightning towards her book, causing it to disintegrate within seconds…

…her research…mere ashes on the carpet…gone…

…rage now spilling out of Cecilia, like a river undimmed and ferocious. Taking a few steps towards Sirius, her temper was lost in a cloud of fury.

"I don't care what you think of me, Sirius Black! That can be replaced." Cecilia pointed towards what remained of many hours of hard work and buoyed by Sirius's shocked expression at her rebuttal she continued. "I made a promise to continue to work for the Order, and I'm still going to do what I said. You think what you've done makes you better than me?"

"We are better than you," he scoffed.

"Equal," she spat back.

"Expendable!" he laughed. "Do you really think that I would help you? That I hadn't removed anything in this house that would remind me of my family so that you could find? I always intended to stop you; everything I've ever done has been to prevent you from continuing. And your strong will has made it come to this."

"Excuse me," retorted Cecilia, "I really must be going. I have a long overdue appointment in the real world and I am sure that one of these more courteous people will escort me there."

To her surprise, when she stepped forward this time, Sirius didn't get in her way. Not only that, he bowed his head as she passed, and slowly, Cecilia walked across the floor towards the rest of the Order.

She saw the faces of the other wizards, all fixed in masks of horror, shock and dismay and Cecilia shut out all thoughts, other than that which was forcing her to walk towards them without turning round.

A loud crack behind her brought Cecilia to a standstill. With every ounce of willpower she continued to look at the wizards in front of her, refusing to turn around.

"Kreacher," she heard Sirius say. "Are you prepared?" Cecilia spun round to see him crouching down to speak to the elf, who was hopping from one foot to another and staring glassy-eyed at Cecilia.

"Prepared for what?" Remus addressed the elf now in quiet, but steady tones.

"The blood deed," it croaked happily, looking at its Master. "Kreacher's blood deed that has been passed down to him from his father."

"Which is what, Kreacher?" asked Minerva McGonagall, narrowing her eyes towards Sirius and Cecilia looked at her, noticing that Tonks, who was standing behind her, was white as a sheet and Cecilia felt as if a bucket of ice was being slowly poured down her back.

"Master only has to say the word, and it will be done. The muggle will be dead – " he looked menacingly at Cecilia as she felt as if she had been slapped in the face…

"Immobilus!" Arthur Weasley stepped forward, thrusting his wand out past Cecilia and she saw the elf stop mid-jump, hanging in the air as if he had been frozen. "Sirius, why are you doing this?" he shouted, wand still held out as Sirius jumped away from his house elf.

"MISBORN!" screamed Sirius towards Cecilia who had turned to face him; yellow light crackling on wand. Around her the wizards behind her began to talk, all at once, as if the hitherto inanimate, mute spectators had suddenly been woken up.

"It's what every wizard thinks about each muggle, deep down. And I'm just being true to my kind," he added, looking defensively at the Order.

"I think you need to shut up now," said Remus, his voice still steady, and he stood with his wand raised, next to Mr Weasley. Sirius took a step towards Remus, sparks still crackling.

"Moony, I wouldn't – " growled Sirius darkly.

"Someone stop them, for pity's sake," shouted Molly, from the front. "Albus! Minerva! This is getting beyond a joke!"

"Sirius Black, lower your wand." Cecilia turned at the sound of the voice behind them. She had heard it before, though she couldn't place it. Behind her, Dumbledore stepped out and glided between Sirius and Remus. Dumbledore, thought Cecilia, her mind full of random thoughts. Like in Minerva's memory. The tone that would make anyone feel as if they were five years old…

…and Cecilia's heart began to beat faster as wizards passed by her, bustling and shouting. When she realised she wasn't actually going to die, Cecilia looked back towards the staircase. Without looking back, refusing to look at anyone behind her, Cecilia rushed back upstairs to Tonks's room, slamming the door behind her.

88888888

"Cecilia…"

She heard a faint noise from the other side of the door which Cecilia had pushed the bed against as she sat next to it, looking at her belongings that she had pulled out onto the floor. Sobbing as she looked at it all, her mind replayed the image of Sirius effectively eliminating the last four weeks of her work, including her complete analysis of the energy/light/magic connection.

How could he treat her like this? How could he have been planning to destroy her for the last five months and then go and treat her so well, as if he'd accepted her? Giving her his hair, for heavens' sake? At least that explained the encounter in the study. He'd planned this all along, and she'd fallen for it.

Wiping away another flood of tears, Cecilia looked again at the items on the floor, considering what were definitely hers; what she could take back with her. For good.

"Cecilia..."

Why had Severus gone, without saying a word? Tonight she'd needed him most of all. Carefully, she folded the lid down of her first small hand-case and looked at the things that were remaining. Sirius's plan too? To get rid of the one person who really cared about her wellbeing.

"Go away..." she sobbed, and brought herself to her knees, looking at what remained. A few pens; a couple of Hogwarts towels and the muggle studies book. Mysterious Mythology.

"I'm coming in Cecilia, to see if you're all right," she heard the voice say, and Cecilia looked in the direction of the door as the speaker pushed against it. When it was obvious that it was stuck, she heard a "crack" and the bed disappeared, the door opened and Remus walked in.

Damn. She'd forgotten they could do things like this, Cecilia scorned herself and she smiled wanly at him because she hadn't the energy to tell him to go. Getting to her feet, she pulled her two packed backs onto the bed, and looked at the items on the floor again.

"I behaved stupidly. I apologise for arguing with Sirius and causing so many problems. I'm sorry I spoiled the evening." Remus looked between her bags and Cecilia, his look of worry being replaced briefly by confusion, before settling on concern.

"I felt so comfortable and accepted in your community. I should never have come back here after what happened last time," she added, determined not to let Remus get a word in. If he did, she was sure, he would persuade her to unmake her decision.

"It was my own stupid fault," she repeated. "I get so argumentative, sometimes. Tim – " she looked down. "Tim used to hate it when I argued with him." She felt teardrops spill uncontrollably from her eyes.

"What can I do to help you?" asked Remus. He looked pale, and ill thought Cecilia, like when he had spoken to him that evening. If she had been in a better state, she would probably be asking him that, rather than the other way round.

"I need to leave. Get as far away from here as possible. Not even sure what he called me, but I know what a blood deed is. At least I all know how it is that you see me. A misborn, was it?" She looked at Remus, hating herself for her cruel, unrefined tone that was making him shift uncomfortably on his feet.

"No-one thinks that; only Sirius because he's drunk," said Remus, hanging his head. Cecilia shook her head.

"I heard what he said. What he meant. That he'd been planning my…death from the outset." She nodded as she saw Remus shake his head in disagreement. "He said all wizards viewed muggles as misborn. Is that what you think?" Cecilia looked at him earnestly, imploring him to tell her the truth. You always have done, begged Cecilia, please do it now.

Remus looked back at her, saying nothing, and her heart sank. She looked back at her cases, wondering how far she would get to home on Christmas Eve, in London with no money.

"Look, forget it. You should go back to the party. I'm going back to the real world as soon as I've packed, so there's no need to wait for me."

Remus looked back at Cecilia, hoping that the hurt that her words were beginning to inflict was not evident on his face. Slowly he took a step towards her, holding up a hand in a calming gesture.

"There's not much of a party left," he murmured. "I think the host managed to kill it off with his last piece of live entertainment," he added, chuckling a little at his own bad joke. He instantly felt bad when he saw the expression on Cecilia's face.

"Do you have to go?" he asked quietly.

"I don't belong here, or fit in, Remus. The only person I connect with is Severus, and look how he is treated by you all…" she stopped, thinking for the hundredth time about her book being destroyed so maliciously in front of everyone and began to cry again.

"May I say Cecilia, that you are one of the loveliest people I have ever met?" He touched her arm softly, and she turned to him, trying to smile despite her sorrow. "My friend…if I were to call him that after his appalling behaviour tonight… doesn't know what he is saying…"

"Thank you, Remus, your words are comforting." Cecilia smiled, touching his arm in return. "Has anyone ever told you how nice you are?"

All the time, thought Remus, sadly. The story of my life. Remus Lupin. Nice.

"Tonks told me about the non-proposal," continued Cecilia, sitting down on the bed and looking sympathetically at Remus.

"Ah."

"She told me about Lily…" she added, smiling again.

"Lily?" Remus looked bewildered.

"That you are still in love with her. And she got all confused about the mixed signals and upset about it, which is why she said what she did to you this evening, because she thought you weren't going to propose tonight."

"Lily," sighed Remus, stepping towards her, before turning and looking at the pile of unsorted paraphernalia of Cecilia's "Alas no, Cecilia. Tonks not the girl for me in any case. You are quite right. I was not going to propose tonight. She doesn't deserve me and what I am..." He stopped and turned back to Cecilia.

"...what are you?" she repeated.

"...old...too old for her..." Remus clarified hastily.

"But she said she couldn't yet..." pressed Cecilia, getting to her feet.

"…until Lily was out of my system," he finished quickly. "Which she has been for a long time. Many years at least." Remus looked at Cecilia, who looked away; folding her arms as she silently contemplated her situation again.

"It doesn't matter, Remus. I saw their faces when Sirius called me misborn. I'm dispensable, and even you can't deny that." She turned to face Remus again. "I'm leaving tonight to go home for my work for the Order is done. Severus has the skill and expertise to carry on with the work. I would be grateful, Remus, if you could inform him...and Harry?" She stepped forward to the unsorted items.

And I'm never going to see you again, thought Cecilia, as she considered what was there. Your beautiful pale face; your sandy-blonde hair…that nervous boy back then, as she had seen in Minerva's memory.

Picking up "Mysterious Mythology," she handed it to Remus. He looked at it, then back to Cecilia, a flicker of sadness crossing his face for a brief moment.

"Thank you for that. It was invaluable, but if I'm going, I should return it." She was about to turn, when Remus handed the book back to Cecilia.

"No. You keep it. Even if you are leaving. Snape has your notes, doesn't he? And knowing him he will have a copy. I don't need this any more. Treat it as a gift." He folded his arms so Cecilia couldn't insist he take it from her again. But instead of protesting, Cecilia took it in her arms, and held it close to her, looking back at him, wide-eyed.

"It's beautiful, Remus. I've always thought it. But you've given me two gifts tonight, and I have nothing to give you."

Putting Mysterious Mythology on top of her second suitcase, Cecilia approached Remus, and stood close. She looked into his pale eyes, and his heart missed a beat as Cecilia leant forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

He felt her soft lips on hers, pressing lightly. His mind was filled with glorious sensations and his skin prickled, like pins and needles. A grain of logical thought was tying to rise to the surface to tell him that he would only get hurt when she discovered he was a werewolf, and urged him stop, but it was drowned by the crescendonic symphony of his heart.

The kiss lasted mere seconds, until Cecilia broke away but to Remus, it might have been a thousand years.

"Sorry…" Cecilia turned away, folding her arms round her. "Think of it as a goodbye kiss then I won't feel so bad. I hope you and Tonks are happy," she gasped, trying to stifle a sob. Remus tried to put his arms round her, but she held out an arm, trying to ward him off.

Cecilia let out another sob, and made to get her bags.

Wordlessly, Remus held her arms, and swung her round so she was facing him. He looked into her beautiful eyes then, with hunger and passion, he pressed his lips firmly against hers, holding her close to his body.

His body ached. He wanted to tell her with this kiss the feelings he had for her, bottled up for months, denied and repressed. He felt her go limp in his arms, and he reached round to support her back, cradling her closer. He could feel the warmth of her body through her dress, her beautiful rounded curves under his touch. And it wasn't just because he'd made the move either…could it be? Yes…Cecilia was kissing him back.

Remus felt an urge, visceral and ancient, coming forth in the pit of his stomach. If he were in any state to describe it in verbally, it would have been "…mine…"

Eventually they broke away. Cecilia was no longer crying, but her tear-stained face shimmered in the light...he wanted to kiss those tears away…

"Let's go together," said Remus. "If you're still set on going."

"But I thought…no," she said, looking down. "I'm a muggle…misborn...and...you and Tonks – "

"There is no me and Tonks," he said loudly, in realisation that it was a secret he could now share with the whole world.

He held her hands, trying to prepare her to understand fully what he was about to say.

"There never was. There might have been; it's always been an assumption on her part. I just went along with it, like everyone else. When you came to Grimmauld Place …it was as if my senses had come alive. Tonks was just very perceptive of my feelings, hence her thinking of Lily...but...since I saw you, that night in July...when you stuck by us all...despite Sirius...when you found the universal truth..."

He smiled, and despite the events of the evening threatening to cloud her judgement Cecilia could see…happiness…he wasn't trying to cheer her up, his actions were genuine, he wanted her, wanted…the person, the muggle Cecilia.

Remus felt like a weight had been lifted off his mind. No longer must he opt for the path of least resistance. Tonks was a wonderful witch, and someone would make her very happy one day he was sure. But now, he could share his feelings with the woman who had made so happy, share it with the world.

But a tear began to flow down Cecilia's cheek again. She felt so confused. But yet, it felt so…right…

"Are you sure?" she insisted. "Remus, please answer me truthfully. Tonks always spoke about you two as though you were a couple. Even tonight, that you would be, eventually."

"I'll talk to her, I'll explain" said Remus gently, wiping away the tear from her eye with his thumb and Cecilia smiled and nodded...not energy for anything else tonight easier to agree...unbidden tears down face...delayed ones expressing themselves...

"Please Cecilia, don't cry any more. I can't bear to see you upset."

"I still have to leave, for my own sake. I need the time so I can think about things clearly again."

"Then I'm coming with you," said Remus firmly, in a tone of voice that made it clear this was not up for discussion. She nodded slightly, smiling and he lightly kissed the top of her forehead. Cecilia she leaned round, kissing his chin and upon her touch Remus returned to her lips his kisses were harder now, more impatient. His hands slid down of her body, caressing her...Cecilia shivered in response. Suddenly she broke off.

"Not here…," she said, whispering. And with that, he took her hand. With his other he pulled his wand out of his robe, and swished his wrist. Emerald fire leapt out of it, creating an arc of light. He stepped into it, leading Cecilia with him. She braced herself for the nauseating sensation she knew would pass through her as they travelled, and held Remus's hand a little more firmly...but didn't care for once.

"Floo Domum Eunt," he said firmly. They vanished.

A second or two later they landed on the rug in front of Cecilia's gas fire. He caught her as her knees crumpled, and stepped forward, sweeping her up into his arms. She smiled, and leaned in, then looked towards the door. Without saying a word, he walked through the living room door then paused. He wanted her so badly, even if all this had been taking place with Sirius as the main protagonist...but before he could think further he realised she was kissing him: long and with passion...he kissed her back...time passed, whether a second or a thousand years...they broke apart...she wanted him too and that was all the confirmation he needed so proceed up the stairs, still looking into her eyes.

As Remus nudged open her bedroom door with his hip, the cool air of the room wafted around them as he placed her gently flat on the bed. Kneeling astride her, he beheld her beauty, her tear stained face reflecting in the half light, her lips, slightly open, waiting to be kissed again...the line of her bodice beguiling him to consider what lay further down still. He shivered slightly, knowing that within a few minutes the secrets that beautiful dress beheld would be revealed and there would be no going back...

The image of the old marauders map randomly appeared in his mind and, as and the words that James had enchanted, uncrackable to this day, their own personal motto crystallised in his mind as Remus John Lupin bent his head as naturally towards Mrs Cecilia Jane Frobisher as a bee to nectar...I solemnly swear that I am up to no good...

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	19. Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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Pale light shone through the window, casting its weak rays onto the bed. Cecilia Frobisher turned over as it did so, and she blinked her eyes open.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a dress crumpled up on the cream carpet of her floor. A blue dress, shimmering in the morning light. Or, was it grey?

Blinking again, Cecilia turned back to where she had laid, and considered the depression in the covers next to her as she lay there while Yesterday played through her mind.

This time yesterday, eight o'clock on Christmas Eve, she had been making her way up from her room in the teachers' quarters at Hogwarts to Dumbledore's study to tell him she had to go home. And here she was, Cecilia thought. Home, in her own house on Christmas Day. Just where she wanted to be.

But it was not how she thought it was going to be.

Downstairs Cecilia could hear noises which sounded like someone unfamiliar of how muggle things worked trying their best, and Cecilia smiled when she considered the events directly preceding their arrival at her house.

It had been a long time since she had brought anyone back with her after a party. Her love life prior to Tim had been small but interesting; the young man in question being in her life for a short amount of time when she was seventeen and the results of smuggling him up to her room whilst still living with her mother very, very interesting.

And more yet noise; this time it sounded like the lid of the kettle hitting the terracotta floor tiles and Cecilia pulled the sheets up round her bare shoulders, giggling as she pictured Remus attempting to make breakfast without using magic whilst fathoming the mysteries of the kitchen.

But it had been right, at the time, even though men had featured far less in her life than in her sister's and although she knew her to be sensible, Cecilia had always wondered what several non-serious relationships a year must be like…

At least Amy had made an effort with the house since her last visit she thought, smelling the cotton sheets, although she suspected that it was probably her mothers' handiwork; once Libby had got her letter she would have called Cecilia's mother to let her know she was coming home.

…like this, she smiled, as the footsteps on the stairs turned into Remus, who pushed the bedroom door open with one hand as he balanced an old tray with two hot cups on his other. Cecilia watched as Remus padded across the carpet to her dressing table, noticing that the tray was actually an inch above his hand, and also that he had managed to find a pair of slippers from somewhere to go with just his shirt from the night before, which were pink gingham with satin bows.

"There we go," he said, picking up a cup. "I hope you don't mind; I needed to use magic for some milk." Cecilia smiled as she took it and nodding, wondering whether it was too early in their relationship to mention that she drank it black.

…relationship…

"So this is Christmas, then?" he continued, taking his cup and sitting down on the bed. "In the…in your world?"

"The birth of Christ, two thousand years ago. That's where the word comes from. Christ's mass. His birth." she replied, taking a sip of tea and holding it in her hands. Not that she needed to keep them warm, but now, sitting here, the morning after, she suddenly felt the urge to hold onto it.

"Oh," he said, "I never knew that." He gestured towards her tea. "Is that OK? I couldn't find any tea leaves, but there were some in some bags in a pot so I undid them. I think they taste much the same."

"No, that's fine," replied Cecilia, taking another sip and tasting the leaves in the tea. She looked back at Remus.

"Why don't you bring that back to bed?" she asked, as he continued to sit on the covers. "It's lovely and warm in here," she added. Remus nodded.

"But not for long," he said. "I need to speak to Dumbledore in a few moments. I left him a message in the floo that I was here with you. I'm expecting him in your fireplace in about ten minutes' time."

As he got back into bed, Cecilia's mind opened the padlocked box at the very front of her conscious mind; the one she had been forcing shut for as long as she could in order to give in to her feelings for Remus, last night and that morning.

Remus handed her his tea as he pulled back the quilt and sheet and like rainfall, guilt began to fall over her mind.

"Are you still naked under there?" he asked, as she handed him back his tea. Cecilia looked at him, and nodded.

"Well, you should know," she replied mischievously. "You did leave one of the finest dresses in the world over there on the carpet."

"Ah," he replied, sipping his tea and moving closer to her. "The famous Emaness dress. I heard nothing else from Tonks since – " he stopped when he saw her expression.

"It's all going to be all right," he said gently, tilting her chin upwards and looking into her eyes. "You are so beautiful, Cecilia. All of this is going to be all right."

Cecilia looked back at Remus, stroking down his arm. Not knowing what else to do to hide her doubt, she smiled and rubbed his arm softly.

"Do you…do you regret…" she began, and he moved his hand to her mouth to shush her.

"No," he said. "Do you?" Cecilia shook her head, taking his hand away from her mouth and leaning in to kiss him…

…time stopped as they kissed…

…deeply and passionately…

…impatiently and hungrily…

…breaking away, Cecilia looked back at Remus. The march of time recommenced.

"What?"

"If I don't," she replied, kissing him on the nose, "you'll have some explaining to do to Dumbledore about while you've missed him."

Remus leaned in to kiss her again then stopped, a look of dismay on his face. Pulling back the covers off both of them he jumped out quickly.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Cecilia, annoyed. "I thought the conversation was just for you?!" Remus stopped mid retrousering and looked at her naked body.

"It is," he replied, doing up his belt. "But the hot bath next door is for you."

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As Cecilia entered her living room twenty minutes later she was surprised to see Remus still knelt by her gas fire speaking to Dumbledore's green flame head. She had imagined by now he would have been sitting on the settee trying to figure out the television again and had brought him a cup of tea, made with teabags this time, and steel herself for a Conversation.

"Mrs Frobisher," said Dumbledore, as she padded across the wooden floor in her Snoopy slippers. "How are you feeling, considering the events of last night?"

"Oh," said Cecilia, in surprise. She put down the drinks on the coffee table and approached the fire. "Er," she glanced at Remus. "Fine," she clarified truthfully, kneeling in front of the fire.

"I was just saying to Remus that when you decide to return, he will be happy to escort you back to Hogwarts with your belongings. I trust that arrangement will be suitable?" Cecilia glanced at Remus again.

"Of course, Professor," she replied graciously. "I am glad that you still wish me to continue with the work."

"It is needed now more than ever," continued Dumbledore. "Death Eater spies have been discovered at the Ministry of Magic this very morning, so as you can see your expertise in these matters are vital to the success of this work." Cecilia felt herself nodding.

"What I need to do is to carry out more research here, in order to make sure that the connection is valid. To ensure Harry's safety," she added as the gas fire flickered. "I trust everyone is all right – " She looked at Remus again, who looked back at her this time and smiled reassuringly.

"Severus," she clarified, sagging down from her upright kneeling position. "Is he OK? Only he had to go very suddenly from the Yule Ball last night."

"I think it would be reassuring for us all if you were to return as soon as you can to Hogwarts," replied Dumbledore, not answering her question. "It is entirely up to you however; I cannot force you to return but I know that you care for your work. Severus has insisted he will continue with the research whether you are here or not and I do feel your guidance is needed."

"Three or four days, then," Cecilia nodded quickly. "Just enough time to see my family and let them know I am still alive – " The room went silent as she broke off after her unfortunate choice of words.

"Just before I leave you and Remus to enjoy this Christmas Day Cecilia, I need to make sure there are no more misunderstandings. What Sirius Black called you last night - " Cecilia felt a lurch and a feeling of panic form in her stomach at the name, " - and what he attempted to do are the product of many hundreds of years of mistakes by wizards towards non-wizards. If you are to remember anything, it should be that when Harry takes that final potion your science will enable to be made, such insults will never be again."

Cecilia turned her face, flushed and red to the door quickly, blinking away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as Dumbledore spoke.

"Thank you, Professor," she replied politely. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Dumbledore replied, "to both of you." As the flame dimmed, Cecilia could have sworn she saw him wink.

"Er, I've brought you some tea," said Cecilia, getting up from the floor. "I think you'll need to – you know – " she gestured a wand-wave towards the tea, ignoring Remus's jovial expression at her imitation of a spell, "if you want milk in yours." She made her way to the settee and sat on it and Remus sat next to her.

"How does it go again? Like this?" he asked, digging his wand out from the inside of his jacket and flicking his wrist towards the tea she had handed him. It turned into a flowerpot. Cecilia giggled.

"No," she replied reprovingly, "like this," she flicked her hand differently this time.

"Oh, like this," he said, his voice in mock-realisation of his previous mistake. It was now a pair of earmuffs.

"…like this…" he continued, trying again, through seven different objects, making her giggle in turn at each one.

"I can't do it," he said, grinning as if he pretending to give up. "You try." Remus handed Cecilia his wand. Cautiously, she took it from him, and when she realised he meant her to take it she waved it gently towards the red snooker ball that was now in his hand.

To her utter surprise, a cup of tea complete with milk appeared in his hand. She looked at him in disbelief and carefully handed him back his cedarwood wand, as if and sudden movements would cause her to perform an even bigger miracle.

"H…how did you…" Remus looked at her, pretending to be confused.

"Me? I didn't do anything. It was all you," he added, giving her a mock-serious look as he stowed away the wand in his inside pocket. "You've been holding out on me, Mrs Frobisher. Or should I say, Professor Frobisher, tea-maker extraordinaire?"

"If it were me," she replied, shaking her head. "I wouldn't have stopped at tea. I would have magicked a whole Christmas dinner because what we have in the kitchen wouldn't satisfy a mouse." She looked at him carefully as he sipped his flowerpot-earmuffs-bucket-and-spade-teddybear-scissors-sewing-thread-doorkey-comb-potato-snookerball tea. Remus put his hand on hers.

"You don't think you're staying in on Christmas Day, do you? Not after the promise you made to Dumbledore?" Cecilia frowned, uncomprehendingly.

"Well you told him that you'd be back at Hogwarts in three or four days' time, you want to see your family and, I expect, you've got a whole host of places for research in mind before you go back. I don't think we'll have time to stay in today if we have a chance of getting all that done."

Cecilia looked back at him, feeling a wave of emotion passing through her. How could one man be so wonderful? How could he know her so well? How could this Christmas Day be more perfect? She turned on the settee so she was facing him, cross legged and took both of his hands in hers.

"I need to ask you something," she said apprehensively. "It's about what you mentioned last night, which is also going to be important if Dumbledore wants this finished quickly. Lily's DNA –" Just as she was speaking the phone began to ring.

"Excuse me," Cecilia got to her feet, as Remus looked at her quietly. "I'll just see who this is. Only a few minutes," she added…

…half an hour later and Remus was waiting for her on the settee having reclaimed his gingham slippers. He smiled as she sat down again.

"Libby, and then my mum," she explained. "I've arranged to see mum Wednesday and Libby's coming round tomorrow. So where were we?" Remus turned and held her hands, as Cecilia had done earlier.

"You were about to tell me that we need Lily's DNA sample so you can check that the work you and Severus are doing at Hogwarts is in fact as safe as it can be in the shortest time possible so Harry will come to no harm, and the potion will be effective. And also that you need me to keep my promise about finding a sample for you to analyse because you won't be confident about your work otherwise."

Cecilia could not find the words to reply. That was exactly what she had been about to tell him, but probably a lot less eloquently in a more round-about way. And definitely more teacher-like.

"And to answer your question precisely," Remus leaned over her, touching her shoulder and kissing her neck, "I think we were just about…" he kissed her gently but firmly on the lips, "…here…"

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"They're gone?"

"They left last night, Tonks." Sirius looked at his cousin from his slouched position on the settee, where he had fallen ten minutes ago after crawling downstairs from his father's study. Around him were the remnants of the party that had descended into self-made chaos and he had been in neither a physical or mental state to clear it up the night before.

"Good for them," Tonks replied, surveying the mess and trying to work out the best place to start.

"What?!" Sirius looked bleary-eyed at Tonks, disbelief in his rough voice.

"If it works – "

"It works for _her_, and the world bows down in her presence!" snapped Sirius irritably; his resultant hangover from the whisky making him feel very ill indeed.

"Why do you have it in for Cecilia?" snapped back Tonks. "I know she went off with Remus, but that must have been mutual, and – "

"She's a muggle, you idiot." Sirius got to his feet. "Very little functions up there." He gestured towards his head. Tonks sighed and looked crestfallen at the mess again.

"I think if they're both happy, then why not? At least two people we know can be – "

"You not upset?" asked Sirius, incredulously. "You've been in love with him for years." He walked over to Tonks and put his arm round her.

"I knew he never felt the same way, Sirius. Didn't you ever notice how his eyes lit up when he saw her? I thought it was still for Lily." Tonks sighed, trying to bury her painful feelings and get on with something practical.

"But you're OK?" pressed Sirius. "I know he's my friend, but for what he's done to you I really should – " Tonks gave him a withering look.

"I think you've done enough. Even Kreacher's messed up in the head because of what you tried to pull off last night. Fancy trying to make him fulfil his blood deed! " Tonks shook her head as she took a few steps into the streamers and tinsel that was now making a beautiful, stylish and highly entropic display on the living room carpet. She lifted up a few handfuls, letting it fall back to the floor.

"I'll get over it. She's a good friend. I just hope that, when she finds out, that she doesn't hurt him. I mean, it'll be a shock, won't it, finding out he's a werewolf." She turned to look at Sirius, who was staring thoughtfully into the living room fireplace.

"Are you still listening to me?" asked Tonks, annoyed. She turned and paced over to her cousin, who was still looking at it.

"Her fire still must be connected to the Floo network. That's how they left, " he added, looking at Tonks and wiping his brow as a wave of nausea passed over him. "I could talk to Moony, and – "

"I don't think that's a very good idea," she replied, dismissively. "I know you were drunk, but somehow I don't think many people will overlook this one in a hurry." He looked at her, an expression of surprise on his face. "It was a nasty, horrible thing you said. If I could be bothered, I'd hate you on behalf of Dad. And Nan and Grandad."

She turned and pulled her wand from her satin robe and began to disapparate disparate piles of rubbish to the nearest muggle landfill site; a convenient method, given that no muggles would be around to see litter appearing out of nowhere.

"I didn't think," said Sirius, pulling out his own wand. "I am sorry, Nymphadora," he added. Tonks turned and fixed him with a stare.

"Yes, well. You seem to be doing less and less thinking these days. And what is Harry going to say when he arrives? You know Molly and Arthur have come to meet the Hogwarts Express. In an hour he'll be here, as will their children, and Hermione, probably. You also know they won't be satisfied with one-word answers from you. And I expect they'll know why Cecilia isn't here because she said she would be." She stopped when she saw the look on his face.

"You could have thought, that's all I'm saying," she said, turning away and paying close attention to the decorations on the Christmas tree.

"I was handling it!" protested Sirius, defensively.

"You did call her m – I'm not even going to say it!" Tonks turned from the tree and marched over to Sirius, bauble in hand.

"I can't stand the woman! What she represents, " he continued, trying to make Tonks look less indignant. "The way she's so…" he stopped; at a loss for words.

"You'd get on with her if you gave her a chance," rebuked Tonks.

"I did!"

"No, you just tried to take advantage of her, oh cousin of mine. Like on her birthday?" Through his pained expression, Sirius managed to look shocked.

"Girls talk," she shrugged, dismissively. "And when she made it clear she wasn't up for taking you got your silly noble nose all put out and tried the blood-deed card!" Tonks folded her arms scornfully.

"I still can't stand her; there's something about her that I can't quite explain." Sirius raised his wand to continue with the cleaning.

"Well, _I _still think she's OK. But I'm worried about Remus. It would be best him telling her sooner rather than later about his furry little problem."

"How much trouble am I in?"

"Well, let's just say there was a bit of a delegation downstairs this morning who wanted to know what the hell you were playing at – "

"Dumbledore included?" Tonks nodded.

"But I didn't see any nooses or flaming torches. Looks like you managed to get out of it. But he's coming back sometime today. Glad I'm not you." She turned and made her way back to the Christmas tree. Sirius pulled a childish face behind her back.

"You're taking this well," said Sirius changing the subject as he whisked his wand over the sofas and removing crumbs, glitter and dust and ignoring her jibe. "Do you think the shop that you borrowed these from will miss them for another few days?" Tonks turned and looked at Sirius then turning back to give the spruce her full attention; tears beginning to well in her eyes.

"I just feel very foolish that it's only now I realise that he's never really loved me." She removed a few decorations that had slipped down its branches, putting them back on neatly. "I knew he loved Lily and I suppose I never noticed how he was with her because he was the same. Looking back; each time he was around her he was so…" Tapping her wand against the trunk, Tonks's spell made the evergreen spring back to freshness from its drooping dried-out state. "And he gave her his grandmother's brooch."

Tonks turned from her hushed conversation with the Christmas tree; her hair changing from bubblegum pink to Scandinavian-blonde and evaporating her tears she walked over to where Sirius was having a difficult time removing some Foreverchew gum from the arm of one of the seven plum-coloured four-seater sofas they had – indeed – _borrowed _from a well-known department store in London.

"Harrods won't be open until Boxing Day," she smiled; attempting a different spell to remove the gum to the one Sirius was trying. "You could probably keep them another day without worrying. Aha!" she exclaimed, as the chewing gum disappeared. Sirius turned and gave her a hug.

"Well, as long as you're all right," said Sirius, his face a caricature of Morning After.

"Oh yes," replied Tonks, dismissively. "I've got bigger fish to fry than Remus Lupin on Christmas Day. Men are just queuing up in Grosvenor Square waiting for me. Now, forty five minutes until your houseguests arrive and we need to get a move on!" She pointed at the kitchen door.

"You get yourself in there and start with the dinner – _no buts_," she added sternly as Sirius made to protest. "And I'll finish up out here."

"Have I ever told you how you're my favourite cousin?" said Sirius, kissing her on the forehead. Tonks pushed him off, pointing towards the kitchen again.

Resigned to his fate, Sirius let go of Tonks and made his way tentatively towards it. As he pushed against the kitchen door, he looked at the piles of dirty plates, pots and dishes from the previous night and his heart sank further, meeting the retch in his stomach that was coming the other way.

How could it have ended like this? How had his plan gone so wrong? The muggle was supposed to be gone for good by now; not still working for the Order. And not in the arms of his best friend! Trust Tonks to put a brave face on it. He turned and smiled at his cousin before letting go of the door.

As he made a start on the bombsite that was his kitchen, Sirius mulled over what Tonks had said, and about Remus's feelings.

Tonks returned the smile as Sirius closed the kitchen door and she turned too; her attention captured by the pile of cracker-ends that had made their way behind the gramophone table.

When the time's right I'll tell him why this isn't as hard to accept as it would seem.

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Following a long, leisurely breakfast in idyllic company, Cecilia had managed to persuade Remus that they wouldn't be wasting time if they spent Christmas Day at home. Then at least she would be able to research what she needed on her home computer and contemplate the best use of her time. And besides, Remus didn't know what he was missing because he'd never enjoyed a muggle Christmas.

What was there not to enjoy about eating far too much with the people you love; watching the Queen's speech, trying to guess what colour outfit she would be wearing and settling down in front of the Christmas film? Who couldn't get overjoyed about hearing the heart-warming news items and wondering whether you would have won a fortune if you had taken the trouble to bet on a white Christmas?

Okay, perhaps enjoy wasn't the best adjective to describe the events of the day. But it would take a lot more than a near death experience and one of the most intense fifteen hours of her life to be dissuaded. However he seemed to give up very easily when she'd pointed this out, Cecilia had thought.

So Cecilia Frobisher spent Christmas Day with Remus Lupin in the manner in which she had described, very animatedly, over breakfast, during which time they had talked and laughed, held hands and generally enjoyed each others' company.

Before the Queen's speech he apparated a lovely Christmas dinner and although Chinese Takeaway wasn't the most traditional of dishes, at least it was hot and shared with someone she loved.

…someone she loved…?

Cecilia noticed that Remus had become more relaxed; the strained expression of the last day and at the party disappearing without trace and he was behaving in a very comfortable manner in her home. He told her about the first time he met his best friends, Sirius and James, on the train to Hogwarts, and even about Lily and James, and when they had Harry.

"But that all changed of course, with Voldermort," said Remus, looking away as he uttered the name. "And after that, you know the rest, " he concluded. "I worked undercover for Dumbledore during the Dark years, until I became a Professor at Hogwarts a few years ago."

"What made you give it up?" Cecilia looked up from her position in Remus's arms where she was lying as they listened to the radio, which was on very low as the daylight drained slowly from the sky. This was the less inquisitive question of the two she had been asking silently in her mind. The other was about the horrible scars she had seen on the back of his thighs this morning, when he'd got up to make the tea.

"I wasn't really suited to being a teacher. That and Order work; I don't know how you manage it, Cecilia. You can't get much sleep in, with the level of effort you put into your work – I saw Harry's and Ron's essays; you've worked them hard!" Cecilia felt pride glowing within and she smiled at Remus.

"You've obviously never taught in a non-wizard school," she laughed, considering her better days at Blackfields Comprehensive. "They'd eat Hogwarts students for breakfast, even the Slytherins" Cecilia took his hand gently, and held it. "If you don't keep them occupied, then they find ways to keep themselves busy!"

"Would you like to see where I'm going to take you?" asked Remus, shifting on the settee so Cecilia was sitting up. "It's going to take some magic, though." Cecilia nodded.

"Fine," she said. "It's not that I don't like magic, you know. I just like to know where I am, when I'm at home." Remus nodded.

"You'd better close the curtains," he said, getting to his feet. "Or your neighbours will wonder what's going on."

Once she had done that, Remus took her by the hand, leading her to the soft woollen rug that lay in front of the fire and sit down. Cecilia sat too, wondering what was going to happen when he withdrew his wand and angled it towards his head. A silver stream of light connected with it, and realisation dawned. Like Minerva's memories that she had looked into all those months ago.

"It's going to feel a little strange at first. You'll feel like you're falling. But once you get used to it, you'll see…you'll see…"

…and Cecilia drifted into Remus's memory, of a house where James and Lily Potter lived. Quite a plain and ordinary house; no higgledy-piggledyness here; no crooked chimney or uneven plasterwork. Somewhere she would perhaps consider living herself…

…and in the kitchen, quite modern, although not particularly up-to-date. A large pine dining table stood in the centre with four carver chairs around it and on the top an amber-coloured glass bowl filled with fruit. The floor looked like tiles, and as Cecilia looked carefully at the flowery orange and brown pattern, her view led her to the brown and orange cooking pots assembled jauntily in the shape of an owl on the shelves below…

The kitchen was fitted in brown and beige, and the green and orange curtains at the window stood proud of the frilly nets that were bunched across the glass…

…at a gas cooker stood a young woman, stirring a pot of something that…smelled…delicious. Although not stirring it herself: her hand was six inches above the wooden spoon and she was rotating her wrist anticlockwise. On the ring behind her was a pressure cooker, and to her left Pyrex plates waiting to have, presumably, the wonderful-smelling food that the woman was cooking…

…so it was a wizard house then…and the woman…? To her left was a door, and through the open frosted glass door the view led to the living room. A stone mantelpiece held fiery orange embers that crackled and flared every so often, reflected off the multicoloured carpet that swirled psychedelically off into the room…so this was one of Remus's memories…and by the look of the place, from the seventies then, or maybe the eighties, just about…

…her attention was called back to the kitchen where the woman had turned. She had turned off the heat from under the pan and had poured hot liquid into mugs, matching the plates in design, and was holding one plate in Cecilia's direction…

Well, it wasn't for her; for one thing; she couldn't see her…_like she couldn't before_…as Cecilia stepped aside, Lily Potter addressed…Cecilia turned her head…Remus, who was sitting to Cecilia's right…the young man Remus, with sandy hair, and fresh face with a newspaper in hand. He put down the paper, folding it in half and Cecilia could see it was the Daily Prophet, complete with animated pictures to accompany the articles…

"Yes, should be here any moment. I left Sirius and James to finish off their report." He leaned past Lily, looking at the plates. "Five? Who else is coming this evening? Dumbledore?"

He got to his feet and Cecilia watched as Remus walked over to a column of beige drawers trimmed with brown plastic, pulling open the top one and taking out some cutlery. From the second, he pulled some heatproof mats and brought them back to the table.

"Has anyone ever told you how thoughtful you are?" asked Lily, as Remus placed a heatproof mat on the table. She used her wand to open the lid of the pressure cooker and move it through the air to the table. Remus ducked past the hot pot, gathering up the cutlery and laying the table.

"You, all the time," he replied, smiling at her…that smile; Cecilia had seen that more than a few times herself today…"so, who are we expecting?"

"She's expecting me." Cecilia turned as a young woman, dressed similarly to Lily in flared jeans and a frilly, patterned blouse. "Evening Remus," she said flatly, looking at him.

From the tone in Henrietta's voice – for the young woman in Lily's kitchen shaking Remus's hand courteously, if a little stiffly, was certainly the same girl she had seen with Sirius in Minerva's memory – it sounded guarded; clipped. She crossed the floor to Lily, and she hugged her friend and Lily kissed her, holding her hands in hers.

"We heard the news," said Lily, looking anxiously at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Numb," she replied, looking down. "But Annie is in the best place she can be. My aunt will take care of her."

"Well, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named won't be able to find her in the muggle world, not if they've contacted the muggle Prime Minister. Do they still think it was him?"

Cecilia walked over to her, and realised she was wiping her cheek, eyeing Remus with suspicion again.

"It wasn't him personally; it was someone acting on his behalf. Or rather, something …" she stopped, looking cautious, before turning to Lily.

"What did they say? Today at the ministry?" Lily walked back over to the cooker, spiriting up the pot that she'd been stirring a few moments ago, making it pour the contents out onto the plate before sending the plates in a caravan over to the table. Henrietta watched them land on each of the five placemats.

"Oh, it's done," she said, dismissively. "Madam Bones burned my wand and hat and I had to sign the International Secrecy code. All I'm to expect now is for my powers to fade. What're we having?"

"Chilli –contra –carni. With potatoes and carrots." She gestured towards the pressure cooker. "Sirius and James'll apparate in a moment, then we can sit down to enjoy it."

"Chilli –contra –carni?" asked Remus. "Never heard of that." He sat down in the chair where Cecilia's point of view had started, smiling politely at Henrietta.

"You've heard of chilli –con –carni? Chilli with meat? Well this is exactly the same, but without the meat. Vegetarian," Lily added, glancing at Henrietta and she took a few more steps over to the drawers that Remus had taken the cutlery and placemats out from, opening the third drawer and pulling out some napkins.

A pair of "crack" sounds made Cecilia jump, and she turned sharply as the awaited other two guests appeared, standing by the open kitchen door…Cecilia couldn't help but stare, trying to stifle a laugh: both wizards looked so comical, as if they had been dragged through a hedge backwards.

James, his black hair looking even scruffier than Cecilia remembered, had what looked like a small hazel branch tangled up in it. His face was black with mud and his clothes torn and not just away from the rest of his clothes: large parts of the material were missing.

Sirius was in much the same state; his robes were as holey as James's. As Cecilia looked him up and down; the feeling of apprehension at his virtual presence in Remus's memory diminished and she felt herself shaking her head as she speculated on the cause of their appearance she realised that Sirius was also missing his left shoe.

"What on earth happened to you?!" Lily had dropped the napkins she was holding onto the floor as she did what Cecilia had done. "What did you do to the hedge that made it drag you through it?"

"Well, believe it or not, Lily – good evening, Henrietta – you're not actually far from the truth. You see, we were – "

"I don't care what you were doing! James!" She looked at her errant husband. "Remus said he saw you at work half an hour ago. How did you end up in this state?" Lily marched past Cecilia, folding her arms in an almost identical manner that she had seen Molly Weasley do when she was annoyed with Mr Weasley.

James glanced at Remus before turning to Lily. He was about to say something else, when Sirius spoke.

"We were on Auror business, which took us to Guildford. Which took us to a field in Surrey. Which took us to a possible Dark Wizard meeting in a field in Surrey. But it turned out to be a group of muggle punk-rockers getting high on glue, building a bonfire and chanting." He smiled a charming smile in Lily's direction before turning it towards Henrietta.

Cecilia swallowed. She recognised that smile. That was the one she had fallen for. The one that had made her agree to attend his Yule Ball…the one which had irradiated her face much as the sun had done on the morning of her birthday…the one – the one that he had given to his house elf when instructing her demise…

"We would have changed at work," continued James, and Cecilia forced her attention onto him, "only we knew you were cooking something special tonight, to celebrate our announcement…" All eyes were on James now, who looked at his wife, sheepishly.

"Upstairs, the both of you! James, you'll have to lend Sirius some clothes. Get a move on!" she insisted, opening a door that led to the hall and shooing them out.

"Er, I really think I should be going," said Henrietta, getting to her feet. Lily turned as Sirius and James made their way down the hall and looked at her friend.

"But you haven't had any tea yet. Please stay, Hen," she implored, but Henrietta shook her head.

"To be honest, I don't think I'm in the mood for Sirius telling me what a mistake I made today," she continued, walking round the table, past Remus and Cecilia and standing by the door that Lily was still holding open. "I just know he'll have a thing or two to say about it; even if we aren't going out any more."

"Come on," said Lily, glancing back at Remus before ushering Henrietta into the hall. Cecilia wondered whether she would be able to follow her, and nipped between the two women as Lily shut the double-panelled frosted glass door. She stepped onto the hall carpet and ahead of them, marvelling absently at the complexity and utter genius of the nineteen seventies designers: wine-red and brown swirls with dashes of cream.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" asked Lily, as Henrietta reached inside the under-stairs cupboard, retrieving a beige raincoat. "Annie. Is she all right after the attack?" Henrietta looked back at her, rubbing her forehead in distress before glancing back at her friend.

"Annie's fine. I know she is safe now. I'm devastated that I probably won't ever see her again. But at least she's alive. Not like my parents after a Dark Wizard saw to them!" Cecilia recalled Minerva's memory and Sirius's to pin the blame on Snape for his own calculated ends. "And they act as if it's all a game!" Henrietta gestured above her head, in the direction that Sirius and James had gone to change.

"It's what could have happened, Lil's," she said quietly, as Lily put a hand on her shoulder. "And they say these attacks are getting worse and worse. Mark my words, they'll soon be after wizards too; not just muggles – "

"What makes you say that?" The tone in Lily Potter's voice had changed to concerned; a hint of a waver within betraying her outer confidence.

"Well; it started with muggle baiting, didn't it? That's been going on for centuries. Then it went to muggles with influence, then to muggles who were related to muggle-born wizards, then squibs. Sooner or later, You-Know-Who will be after wizards – " She stopped, registering the doubt in her friend's face.

"All I'm saying is watch out. Especially with the news you're going to be sharing tonight." Lily smiled and stroked her stomach.

"I'm so happy for you both," said Henrietta. "When is he…she…it…due?"

"It," said Lily. "The midwife healer said she could tell us, but we prefer it to be a surprise. It's due at the end of July! My parents are so excited!" Cecilia leaned towards the two women, an interloper in two friends' joy. That was Harry in there; no more than a couple of months old and the size of a tooth. She smiled as she considered the young man he had grown into, despite the radically different upbringing his parents had in mind.

"How about Petunia?" Lily's face fall.

"My sister still wants nothing to do with me. After all these years, Hen; even after her running away and us finding her. But I'm going to get her to be it's godparent. Then at least she can see I've not given up."

Cecilia saw Henrietta kiss Lily on the cheek and place her hand over Lily's on her stomach…the scene faded…

…and then reappeared…odd, thought Cecilia. Why am I back to the same place as I was…? She looked around the memory, noting the swirly-patterned carpet again. But…something was different. Instead of the closed front door before her, wind rushed through the empty spaces where glass had been…a piece of paper, looking like an envelope of some kind lay on the carpet, blowing in the fortuitous breeze.

Cecilia took a few steps towards it, before her attention was seized completely by the low scream that reverberated from upstairs and that made her blood run cold…without registering what it was she was doing, she…_followed Remus as he bolted up the stairs, two at a time_…

…and…the cliché about the in-progress car accident could have been written for the scene Cecilia witnessed…she didn't want to look at what was in front of her, but found herself compelled to stare, taking in every horrible detail…

…most of the furniture that was in the large bedroom was utterly devastated. It was as if a hurricane had blown about inside, tossing everything within in any direction. Bits of splintered wood from a dressing table were lodged in the wall, as if thrown with might like hideous darts…quilts and sheets festooned the floor and covered other pieces of decimated furniture, torn into shreds and fibres…books and vinyl records hither and thither…

"The Scene of Magical Crime Aurors have told us to leave them until they get here." Cecilia found herself being addressed by a small wizard in a purple pointy hat. "They need to examine the room, and the house, before we can take them away…" He gestured to the centre of the room and Cecilia looked past Remus…

…James Potter was lying in the corner of the room…his neck was twisted to one side and down, as if it were broken…one arm underneath him; his legs entangled around one another…Cecilia put one hand to her mouth…

"The boy was taken by Albus Dumbledore. We thought this was for the best as he didn't seem to be hurt. They are looking for his godparents, I understand. And the girl, too – she should never have been brought here. I did warn him…" Cecilia waited for Remus to respond: this wizard was surely talking about Harry. When he didn't she looked at him and gasped. His face was as white as a sheet and he was trembling, his eyes fixed on a single spot in the room…

…Cecilia looked to where Remus was looking and her heart sinking like a stone when she saw…Lily had a huge cut on her forehead from which blood was oozing. Like her husband, her neck also looked broken as it hung limply to one side. Her left leg was bent back on itself, and her other leg was crushed under a huge oak wardrobe, which itself…had splintered, peppering Lily with an array of jagged, evil shards…

…Cecilia stepped back quickly as the young version of Remus dashed past her and into the bathroom…seconds later, Cecilia felt a wave of compassion as the sounds of vomiting came from behind the closed door…

…then came the sensation that she was being picked back up by her navel and the sage green landing carpet of the Potter's home began to move further and further away from her…up through the roof she travelled, high above the roof…the image turning black now, before her eyes…

…Cecilia blinked…

"There are still stains of blood on that carpet in that room, in Godric's Hollow, and in that terrible mess, quite a large portion of her hair." Cecilia blinked again as she turned towards Remus's voice. She was back, sitting on the rug by the fire, holding Remus's hand; a silver stream of light ebbing towards his forehead. He let his wand fall out of his hand and it fell gently next to him, onto the rug.

"That house is still there; still out of bounds as a magical crime scene. To muggle eyes a tumbledown wreck. An unresolved case, still, after sixteen years." Cecilia looked into his eyes. Recalling those memories were clearly so painful for him that he was shaking and she stroked his hand gently.

"Thank you, Remus," Cecilia said softly, placing a finger on is mouth to stop him from interrupting. "You have placed so much trust in me, allowing me to see this." She moved slowly towards him and, taking her finger from his lips, replaced it with her own, kissing him gently, softly…

They broke away and Remus pulled her into his arms and they lay together on the rug in the silence of their own thoughts.

"So I could see any memory of yours, like that then?" asked Cecilia eventually.

"Hmm?"

"With your wand, and the light. I could see any of your memories?"

"Mm, yes. If I wanted you to see them, of course," he smiled, turning to look at her. "And there are some I wouldn't want you to see."

"And, could you use it to see my memories?" Cecilia pressed, looking back. "If I wanted you to," she added.

"Yes, certainly. Many an unscrupulous wizard has sifted through the mind of an undefended muggle in search of memories." Cecilia shot him a look, and Remus laughed at her worried expression.

"Who was that woman, in your first memory, who came to dinner and didn't stay? She seemed nice."

"Henrietta. And yes, she was lovely. Absolutely lovely. She used to go out with Sirius when we were at school, but she decided to give up wizarding and care for her younger sister after her parents were killed." By Voldermort, Cecilia finished in her mind. Or Severus Snape, if we are to believe the twisted rantings of Sirius Black.

"At least I can see now, with Sirius it's not personal," she added. "He tries hard to hide it, but he really believes us to be inferior."

"It's his family," said Remus apologetically. "The pressure has always been there to conform to their twisted views. When he's weak, or his thoughts are out of control…like when he's drunk…" He stopped, touching her hand softly again.

"I'm not defending him when I say this, but what he's been through; James and Lily…Azkaban…it's a wonder he's not more screwed up."

"OK," said Cecilia, wondering whether she should mention Henrietta's loss of power. Would he suspect that she wasn't new to looking at thoughts?

"And she gave up her powers, and chose to live as a muggle, just like those other wizards that Kingsley mentioned before, when they returned their wands and hats to the ministry."

"I'll take you there," said Remus, smiling at Cecilia. "We can get the samples you need to make Harry's potion – hey…!" he exclaimed, instinctively giving chase to his wand as she made off with his wand from inside his jacket. Cecilia grinned teasingly and he knelt astride her tussling playfully with it. Eventually giving in, Remus let her hold it, and Cecilia waved it powerlessly at her own forehead before handing it to him with mock-disappointment.

"There," she said, squirming as Remus looked her up and down before lowering his face to hers. Cecilia tried not to giggle as he tickled her upper lip with his moustache.

Before it went any further, Cecilia pulled herself from underneath Remus and sat cross-legged in front of him. She took his abandoned wand and pointed it at her own head again.

"My turn…"

88888888

Minerva McGonagall ascended the Headmaster's staircase with a feeling of apprehension growing inside her. The afternoon of Christmas Day was traditionally the time that the castle was cleaned inside and out by the house elves, teachers packed away ready for their break and a well-earned rest was had by all once the students who were leaving for Christmas had departed on the Hogwarts Express.

Only one of those things had actually managed to take place smoothly that morning; the Hogwarts Express had indeed pulled into the Hogsmeade Station at 5.30am, and collected all of the students; because of the lateness of the ball Dumbledore had decided that they were all to return to their families for a fortnight. Or at least, that had been the official line.

At least that had been successful, that was one blessing, thought Minerva as she climbed the last few steps. The students had had a marvellous time at the ball the previous evening and their excitement and euphoria had carried them through the evening and on to Christmas morning.

And because of this they all managed to get on the train without witnessing the arrival of Order members, many of whom had been totally thoughtless at their manner and mode of transport.

Knocking at the door now, the old witch waited until Albus Dumbledore was ready for her to enter. There was still a protocol to follow, even if there were no students in school and though she had known him for over fifty years, since she had been at Hogwarts herself as a student, their professional relationship thrived on simple rule that neither of them stepped on the others toes, whether in front of students, staff or for the Order.

"Enter," she heard Dumbledore say and carefully she turned the handle of the door; an involuntary shudder passing through her as it always did, as Minerva's subconscious registered a time when she was not the deputy headmistress, but a small eleven-year-old witch who had come to confess a misdemeanour to Headmaster Dippet.

"They have left now, I assume?" Dumbledore did not turn from his feeding of Fawkes as Minerva crossed the stone floor. The fire was out in the fireplace, but a tinge of green ash littered the hearth, indicating that he had been speaking to someone by floo as recently as the last ten minutes.

"Far more carefully than how they arrived, Albus. It took a lot of reassurance of many of them regarding the incidents of last night and this morning and I am still not sure whether Salicia Wall really believed me that the Act of Union in the Wizengamot in 1835 meant that we didn't have the power to hunt down Dark Wizards and their families in the streets."

Dumbledore turned from his feeding of Fawkes and glanced in her direction. Petting the phoenix on its comb, he looked at her over the top of his spectacles.

"Dear Salicia," he said, making his way back to his chair behind the huge oak desk. "She is older than I am you know; nearly two hundred. I suspect that after a certain age the memory starts to play tricks." He sat down lightly on the chair, and shuffled a few parchments into a pile.

"Now, we organised the Auror shifts following the disturbances at the Ministry. What was the outcome of the arrests there, do we know? Oh, I do beg your pardon," he added, picking up his wand from the table and magicking a winged tartan armchair into existence.

Minerva smiled graciously at Dumbledore, and sat in the chair. Normally she wouldn't accede to such comforts however, following her return very late from Grimmauld Place, dealing with transgressions in behaviour from certain students at the ball, the news of the break-in soon after and the departure of six hundred students home for their Christmas holidays had caught up with her. And she may only be half Dumbledore's age, but she had to admit she would love to know how he managed to keep going.

"Hustian and Doyle were the wizards discovered in the "Misuse of Muggle Artefacts" office," Minerva began, pulling her cloak round her shoulders as she dug into an inside pocket and removed a tartan backed notebook. "They surrendered immediately and admitted their allegiance to Voldermort as the reason for their presence, according to Arthur Weasley." She flicked over a page. "They were unarmed, and had entered through the visitor's entrance as wizard maintenance personnel."

"And they had taken…" Minerva looked at Dumbledore, confused.

"Taken? Oh!" she looked at her list again, and turned over another page "…various muggle things that had been found and placed in lost property…car keys, hairbrushes…clothing: hats mainly…plastic children's toys…" she looked back at Dumbledore. "Oh, and a blue and white striped golfing umbrella, but Arthur thinks that was because it was beginning to snow in London this morning. Nothing of value or worth, really."

"Hm." Dumbledore looked at the fireplace over which the portraits of the former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts hung. Most of them were dozing in their frames, many of them wearing an array of merry party hats. Dilys even had a cocktail glass which she had tried to disguise behind the edge of her frame.

"Do you mind if I ask, Albus, of the other matter?" pressed Minerva, replacing the notebook inside her dark green robe. "I could not give many reassurances to the Order or answer their questions, one of which being the school as the meeting place today. I told them that it was through emergency only that they were called here and our next meeting would be at Grimmauld Place."

She waited, hoping her explanation had been enough for Dumbledore to give her some hope that what she had told them had been right and eventually he looked back from the fireplace and nodded to her.

"The other matter concerning our good friend Mrs Cecilia Frobisher." Dumbledore got to his feet and began to walk towards the fireplace now and waved an arm, making the shimmering green dust that Minerva had noticed in the hearth vanish.

"Severus Snape will be arriving in approximately seventeen minutes and thirty eight seconds. He undertook Order business last night and is unaware of events neither at the Ministry nor at the Order Headquarters. I would be obliged, Minerva, if I could detain you from your busy schedule of the day in order to discuss these issues with him?"

"Of course, Albus," she replied, wishing he hadn't reminded her of her busy schedule which had been made doubly busy through the meeting of the Order in the Great Hall, the absence of Hagrid the last couple of days and the consequential disasters that had followed the distress and confusion of the castle's house elves.

"Of the unfortunate events last night, you were witness and as you know, Mrs Frobisher left for home shortly afterwards."

"Yes," nodded McGonagall in agreement. "It was about one a.m." She frowned. "But she did not reappear from her room, even after Remus Lupin went up. Is she coming back to work for the Order? I do think it would be awfully wise to find a way that she can, especially seeing as Severus's time is taken up so. You have to admit, they are a good team, which is something I thought I'd never say about Severus Snape."

"She has agreed to return to Hogwarts, in three or four days' time, although this news will be distressing to Severus Snape, for reasons that I cannot divulge."

"Is he to escort her? Is she safe, alone in her home at such an important time as this?" Minerva shifted on her chair as Dumbledore turned and looked directly at Minerva McGonagall, a disconcerting move that caused uncomfortable memories for the witch to flash though her mind and Headmaster Dippet's thorough disapproval.

"Cecilia Frobisher is in the very good company of Remus Lupin, who escorted her via floo to her home. After speaking to him at her home this morning I do believe that they will need their time together."

Minerva McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, her hand in the process of holding her cloak to her fell limply away as she interpreted Dumbledore's meaning.

"You don't mean to say that – " she stopped, watching Albus Dumbledore smile. "Cecilia and Remus…? B…but surely – "

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "A happiness in amongst all of our confusion." He smiled again at Minerva's loss of words.

"Cecilia and Remus…" Minerva mused and a dreamy look flashed over her otherwise austere features, "…it did cross my mind…Severus…something he said yesterday morning...he has taken a shine to her. Again something I never thought I'd say," she added.

"We must trust Severus's motives with regard to Mrs Frobisher. Things have changed with the enemy; not just the superficial attempt to attract attention by breaking into the Ministry today – "

"You think that was a smokescreen? To hide the real crime?"

"Perhaps," replied Dumbledore, pacing back towards his desk. "However Voldermort does not do things without reason; tactics are only carried out if they themselves demonstrate the might of his power. However innocuous the items that the wizards were removing, they were necessary for something. They were to be taken for a reason."

Minerva did not reply. Dumbledore had said similar about Tom Riddle…Voldermort, before. And this was the Achilles heel that through all the effort of Snape, Lupin, Arthur Weasley, Kingsley, Sturgis, Hagrid, Tonks, and the rest of the Order were targeting again. Another arrow was being honed and sharpened and this time muggle science was the spike.

Yes, she knew all of this, and the consequences too if their plan did not succeed. It was the apprehension of failure that made Minerva forget the finer details in order to cope with everyday things that happened at Hogwarts.

For example, It was not possible to give lines to a pupil for removing the door handles of your classroom with a small but effective vanishing spell if at the forefront of your mind the whole fabric of the magic and muggle world might break apart because the Order had not been successful: Fred Weasley would never be exposed to the effects of pedagogical behavioural reform if all she could think about was that none of them might be there to worry about such trivialities in a month or so's time.

"I have to admit I never saw such a match coming, myself," continued Dumbledore, sitting back down in his chair. "Although I cannot say I am displeased; both are very delightful young people and the time Cecilia has afforded away from her work will suit them. And," He swallowed before continuing; something Minerva McGonagall had long noted to be an admission of fault in her friend.

"I was a little short sighted in believing that Cecilia Frobisher could not become involved in this work without it becoming involved with her."

Minerva nodded slowly. You keep thinking about the big things Albus, she concluded, smiling at her old friend and let me worry about the small details. That's how it's always been. That's how it works best.

"And Sirius Black? I would never have believed it if I hadn't witnessed it myself. To think he had planned to get rid of Cecilia all along; beguiling and charming her…romancing her…in order to kill her…" McGonagall's voice trailed away and the unspoken question hung in the air between them.

"This afternoon, as you know, I visited Sirius." Dumbledore pushed his spectacles up his long nose and shuffled the papers he had pushed to one side earlier so they crackled quietly in his hands.

"He has undertaken a deed which has caused him realise the seriousness of his actions. He loves Harry, this we know, and I am satisfied he now truly understands Cecilia's role in all of this, especially the limited time we have to carry out our plan. That she is a muggle is of no consequence now."

"What time do we have, Albus? Can we afford her to be away for as long as a few days?" Dumbledore nodded.

"What short time they have together will be nothing compared to the time limitations that will be pressing on us all soon. There had been a change in pace, Minerva" he looked at McGonagall over his spectacles again, "and as a result there is more at stake than there ever was. The happenings at the Ministry were merely an overture of what is to come and in precisely four minutes and fourteen seconds I must undertake probably the most difficult tasks as Head of the Order of the Phoenix."

88888888

"Wow," said Remus, lying back down on the rug, marvelling at the events he had just seen in Cecilia's mind. "I never knew that muggle history was so rich and diverse."

"You did see the museum, didn't you? And the bridge over the river?" asked Cecilia, checking he had witnessed the thoughts she had been thinking; with one or two exceptions, she had never heard anyone – muggle or wizard – describe industrial history as "wow."

"Yeah, well I think so. You mean the old fashioned street with the foundry at the end? And the canal boats? And the iron bridge, which was the first in Britain to be made out of cast iron, a process where it is strengthened by the introduction of impurities to reinforce inter-atomic strength?" Cecilia turned to look at Remus in amazement. How did he know all of that?

"I've never seen anyone's thoughts where they've narrated their way through. You must talk to yourself when you think, Cecilia. It felt like I was in a guided tour." Cecilia sat back up and looked down at Remus, her eyes lit up with excitement at her favourite period of history.

"Why is this so important to you?" he asked, looking at her curiously. "I thought you were interested in science. Stuff that goes bang…like potions."

"Science isn't just about chemistry," said Cecilia, "although chemistry is one of the most important aspects of it," she added loyally. "Science is about people. A explanation of the world. And the Industrial Revolution, when we harnessed mechanical and steam power effectively for the first time in history was probably when the most wonderful discoveries were made…" Cecilia smiled as she lay back down on the rug, speaking not to Remus now, but to herself.

"…power…it's what all men desire. If you have power where someone has none, you have an advantage. When the steam engine and mechanical power came into being, Britain was strides ahead of other countries. We could build things quicker…cheaper…bigger…we prospered…" she turned to look at Remus, who had laid down next to her again. "…wizards were involved as well, you know." She nodded as Remus frowned.

"Oh yes. Even Joseph Black…"

"…1728 to 1799…" replied Remus absently.

"…he was a scientist, a chemist. Or at least, he made some discoveries which were scientifically related…"

"Well, if I'd not come with you to get the work done, and I'd not seen you get the information from the…thingynet..." he waved his fingers in mid air, imitating her typing…

"…Internet…"

"…Internet thing, I wouldn't have believed you. But, are you sure Joseph Black was one of them? He was one of the most awful wizards for his treatment of muggles, I'm sorry to say."

Cecilia got to her feet, holding out her hand in the now dark living room, which had suddenly become chilly. Remus got up too, and took her hand, wondering where they could be going. She led him into her spare room, which was more a library than a bedroom and Remus remembered that it was where Tonks had stayed when they had brought Cecilia home to carry out the scientific analysis.

Switching on the lights, Cecilia dropped his hand suddenly and crossed the cream carpet to a bookshelf near the window, scanning the top, and then the middle shelf, before pulling out a couple of books and what looked to Remus like a photograph album.

She sat on the spare room bed, opening the first book to the contents before flicking over about two dozen pages.

"This is the Joseph Black I mean," said Cecilia, pointing to a picture of him in her _Illustrated Scientists _Encyclopaedia. "His birth and death dates are the same as – " she stopped. The only place she had seen a picture of Joseph Black had been in Draco's diary and, much as she was trusting Remus by discussing her work with him, there was very little that would persuade her to admit to him her adventure with an invisibility cloak and a map of Hogwarts a couple of months ago.

"That's him," said Remus. "Sirius's ancestor. And he lived in the same village in Scotland."

"He was a contemporary and colleague of James Watt," said Cecilia, looking at Remus. He looked blank.

"I've got a joke for you," she continued, flicking through the encyclopaedia until she got nearer to the back. "What is the name of the man who gave his name to the unit for power?"

"What?" said Remus. Cecilia said it again.

"What?" insisted Remus, truly lost now. "I don't understand," he added. Cecilia smiled, rephrasing it so it sounded like a statement, and pointing at the page. Comprehension dawned on Remus's face as he scanned the information thereon.

"James Watt," said Remus, grinning at Cecilia. "Very funny," he added. "About as funny as the ghostly glasses joke…" Cecilia paused to allow him to continue.

"What sort of glasses do ghosts wear? Spooktacles." Cecilia groaned loudly.

"With humour like that, you should be writing them for the inside of Christmas Crackers," she said, looking back down at the page.

"What?"

"Yes, Watt," said Cecilia, looking at the information again before looking at Remus. "You know, his work was so influential and necessary for the advancement of technology and industry in Britain at the time, he is buried in Westminster Abbey? Not bad for a boy coming from the wilds of Scotland, don't you think?"

She glanced down at the picture then pulled out the photograph album that was underneath the second book, turning to the pictures of his tomb that she had photographed on a visit with Tim there almost ten years ago.

"I mean, his partner in Birmingham, James Brindley, he never got honoured like that, nor any of the Lunar Society." Remus jerked his head up sharply from the paragraph he was reading in the encyclopaedia, and looked where Cecilia was pointing.

""The father of power,"" Cecilia read the inscription on the tomb from her photograph. "For muggles, of course. ""…who directing the force of an original genius early exercised in philosophic research to the improvement of the steam engine enlarged the resources of his country increased the power of man and rose to an eminent place among the most illustrious followers of science and the real benefactors of the world…"" she broke off, looking at Remus again who seemed to be listening to every word.

"Just think; if Joseph Black had invented the steam engine, or refined the Newcomen engine, which is what Watt actually did, maybe the unit of power would be the Black instead. But then, it would rather ruin a rather silly joke."

"So, you really are interested in all this, then. Not just because of your work with Snape?" Remus smiled at the light shimmering in her eyes. She nodded.

"Who wouldn't be, knowing the wonders and breakthroughs that happened? If it hadn't been for men like this – " she gestured to the picture of James Watt, " – and Brindley…Wedgwood, Priestley, Darwin…this is what made the country great, " she added with patriotism. "I think people are scared to say it now, but there's no shame in saying that you want a better future, like the Lunartics?"

"The who?!" laughed Remus, looking at the book, the back at Cecilia.

"Lunartics. Scientists, engineers and industrialists at around the end of the eighteenth century, the Lunar Society of Birmingham." Cecilia shifted on the bed and opened the photo album to the next page, swiftly flicking past the pictures of her and Tim before stopping at the ones of her visit to Soho House.

"They don't move like wizard ones. We'll just have to make do." She pointed to a few people around a table which were the models put there by the museum of the men she had mentioned.

"I wish, I so wish I could have been there. To hear them talking about their inventions and where and how they were going to use them. Science done for what it should be; for the improvement and the understanding of lives."

"It doesn't look anything like the place we visited," murmured Remus, glancing at the pictures. "I distinctly remember more machines and fewer dinner plates."

"It was more of a social thing then. It was like the most influential men of the age were running small scale research and sharing good practice. Just when communication was getting started. And they would get together here, mostly, once a month. That's why they were called the Lunar Society. Because they only met when there was a full moon so they had enough light to see their carriages home for the night…"

She stopped, noticing Remus's face. From his keenness of a few moments ago, Remus seemed to have lost interest in the conversation, sitting back from her slightly and looking away as if he was about to be sick.

"…quite like that story in your book…" she continued, bringing the conversation out of the depths of muggle social history to wizard nowness. She got up and replaced the books and photo album before returning back to the bed and kneeling beside Remus, making a mental note to look through "Mysterious Mythology" again.

"OK, enough of that. It's Christmas Day, and I don't think we've covered half of the things on the "to do" list." Remus looked at her and reached up to stroke her hair.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" His pale eyes reflected the room's electric light, but from their intensity Cecilia fancied that they would shine still, even if she were to switch off the light.

"Three times so far today, and once last night. Flattery won't get you far, Mr. Lupin," she warned. But that will, as he leaned over her, his hand brushing a breast before taking her in his arms and kissing her spine-meltingly.

"Some supper?" he asked, smiling as he stroked her hair. "It must be oh, at least a couple of hours since that tiny Christmas dinner."

So the evening of Christmas Day progressed. Remus insisted on providing a lovely supper spread after which Cecilia lounged in the bath using the bubble bath gift that Harry and Ron had given to her, a glorious scent lingering on her skin as she patted herself dry...

…pulling herself up on more than one occasion when her mind tried to lead her down the garden path towards the very recent past...and the future, both professional and personal. There would be time enough to deal with that…enjoy the now…

They listened to some muggle music, a phenomenon that Remus had hitherto not experienced, with interesting results. Later, after Cecilia had spoken to her mother on the phone again and reassured her again that she was fine, they put on the radio and laughed at the evening phone-ins. A far more successful evening than the previous one, she thought wryly…

…and after making love to a wizard for the third time that day, Cecilia drifted off to sleep in his arms, never wanting the feeling to end…

88888888

…Remus held Cecilia close in his arms, watching her move in her sleep. With the exception of one or two liaisons following the death of his friends and incarceration of Sirius, he had had very little to do with witches.

But that hadn't stopped him from dreaming, hoping, imagining what it would be like; those days when he was so ill, recovering from a visit from the Forbidden Forest had given way to fantasies of immense detail. And they had been mere shadows compared to this; to being with someone he loved more passionately and deeply than even Lily.

Sliding his arm from underneath her, he sat with his legs out of bed and head in his hands; his arms ached at the shoulders and his muscles tensed. The moonlight streaming in from outside was causing him to experience far worse pre-lunar tension than he usually had.

Remus got to his feet and looked back at Cecilia. She would understand. There was no-one who had done with him things like _that,_ felt that good to his touch, fulfilled such promises with her body that wouldn't. She understood so much already. She _would_ understand.

Reaching down, he pulled on the slippers that he had found underneath the stairs that morning and stood to his full height before deciding that if he was going to sit out the night it should be downstairs, with a good book. And perhaps with some clothes on.

He sat in the armchair, as far away from the uncurtained window as he could, picking up a copy of "Dr. Hessayan's book of Garden Flowers" that was under Cecilia's coffee table.

"Lumos".

The tip of his wand began to glow, and he read through the first few pages of the book before putting it down. So that was what muggles enjoyed doing in their spare time. Pretty flowers.

Getting to his feet, Remus crossed to the dark swivel bookcase, looking at other titles that were there. Glancing past, "Electrochemistry Made Easy", "Mrs Beeton's Cookbook" and "101 Great Visits in Britain" he finally selected, "The Children's Treasury," a book that looked almost as old as "Mysterious Mythology."

Contented, he finally sat back down and opened the book. Beautiful hand-drawn illustrations filled the pages as stories from a multitude of authors sprang to life and Remus began to read a story about a funny little man, as quiet as a mouse, who does the mischief that is done in everybody's house.

A few pages into the story and a sheet of paper fluttered from between the next two pages. Remus tucked it back inside as be continued the story. And then another. Disturbed from reading, he flicked the pages of the old book with this thumb and removed three other distractions, placing them in a pile on the arm of the chair before turning to the next page to find out if Pinky the naughty pixie was going to get his comeuppance.

As he read, Remus's mind wandered to thoughts of Grimmauld Place, and what its occupants would be getting up to in his absence. No-one other than Dumbledore had contacted him and so he would just have to wait until he returned to find out the lay of the land….

Turning over another page, Remus began another story, about a boy who was lost on a moor, with only his pet cat in the whole world.

…he felt angry with Sirius for his actions. That he had been planning to sleep with Cecilia in order to destroy her, even going so far as to brag to him – Remus – about it. And that through everything, through approving of her work, and complementing her on the progress she was making he was really plotting her downfall…

The boy, by the name of Toby, had been forced to live on the moor, but found plenty of food for him and his cat, until autumn began to turn.

…Sirius! How could you do that? Remus knew he was capable of it, but not quite in the way he had described to Cecilia that day. And never so calculating, so pathological. That wasn't the friend he knew…

Toby's cat had run off one day, and it had taken until nightfall before he had caught up with her, and then it was too late. The werewolf that inhabited the forest hunted down poor Toby because it was a dangerous bloodsucking violent beast, out of its mind with maniacal intent.

Okay, so he'd paraphrased the last bit of the story but that's how they always end up. There's no happy ending when you mention the word "werewolf". He folded the book shut with a thump, getting up from the chair and crossing the carpet to replace the book on the shelf.

Remus was just through the door when he remembered about the things that had been inside the book itself and he turned, still holding his illuminated wand and picked them up. He stopped.

The photos themselves were fairly innocuous; they were ones taken seemingly many years ago and Remus could just make out that the slightly overweight teenager dressed in black was Cecilia.

It looked like she was at a party with another girl, brunette and dressed in far brighter, jazzier colours with people, balloons and a banner proclaiming behind them that Brenda should enjoy a happy birthday, On the back of that one, in a very neat hand had been written the words, "June 1985. Party at Libby's. First photo of Sissy."

Another was one of Cecilia on her own, asleep in an armchair with a lipstick kiss on her forehead. The back read, "Ha, bet you thought I'd run out of film."

Looking at the back of the third picture, the neat writing proclaimed simply, "Tim Frobisher with my clever Sissy, forever." Remus turned it over and looked at the image there, his arm shaking.

Cecilia and Tim, his arms round her as they stood at the front of the house, which still had its "Sold" sign staked into the turf outside and a box labelled "lab stuff" that Remus had apparated back today to that very same house. Their arms interlocked and looking "coupley", the way James and Lily looked when they were married.

This was the first time Remus had allowed his senses to register the existence of a rival, and the feeling aggravated him. He'd gazed upon very ordinary, everyday photograph of Timothy Frobisher from the mantelpiece that morning, as he was waiting for Dumbledore to floo, but even though his threat was beyond reach such closeness between them came as a shock.

Sharply, Remus dashed his hand down, flicking his wand as if he were making a lit match go out and returned to the "Children's Treasury", stuffing the pictures inside randomly before turning to go.

Suddenly, Remus pulled the book from the rack, retrieving the pictures. He tore them into small pieces before thrusting them into his pocket, trying to ignore the feeling of unprecedented jealousy that was trying to make itself heard in his mind.

Then Remus Lupin climbed the stairs achily back upstairs and sitting on the edge of the bed as night dissolved into dawn, watched her sleep.

88888888

"What is there to do, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall paced round Dumbledore's office, almost rivalling the man himself at the art. "Sirius didn't actually harm her. Nether did his house elf. I do think your call to remove him from the Order is an over-reaction."

Snape said nothing. An expert of keeping a stony exterior when inside his inner fury would make rock turn to liquid, he knew that it would be of no use to argue with McGonagall. Especially since the stakes had now been raised. He turned to Dumbledore.

"Black has tried to deprive me of my assistant on two occasions now. As we are attempting to prevent the deaths of _muggles_ as well as wizards through our strategy of ultimately defeating the Dark Lord – " he ignored McGonagall's look of exasperation, " – how can you allow one of our number to work with us when he has audaciously attempted this, which is counter to our aims?" He glanced at Minerva, then back at Dumbledore, shifting from foot to foot, "without retribution?"

"Oh, believe me, Severus, Sirius Black understands where he has erred which is a matter now settled between he and myself, as Mrs Frobisher's employer." Snape paused mid-interrupt as Dumbledore pressed on.

"However we cannot bar him from the Order. Where else would we hold our meetings?" He chuckled to himself quietly and glanced at Minerva.

"No," concluded Dumbledore, holding up a hand to signal the end of the discussion, "Sirius Black remains a member of the Order of the Phoenix. However a very repentant one."

Snape breathed heavily out through his nose and said nothing. He had long ago learned to read Dumbledore's tones and actions. Besides, there would be very little he could say that would make the headmaster change his mind.

"And I am to understand she is at her home now? Considering the news I brought, I trust that an Order member is with her?" Dumbledore got to his feet, walking round to the other side of his desk. Silence reigned as Minerva looked at him, then back at Snape.

"She left last night with Remus Lupin and she was in quite a state, understandably…"

"Indeed," agreed Snape, looking at Dumbledore.

"…taking everything with her. Lupin spent the night at Mrs Frobisher's home and he informed me this morning that they have come to an understanding." Dumbledore cut off suddenly and fell silent.

"I see." Snape's stony exterior took on a more igneous edge as the weight of the words that Dumbledore spoke hammered hard in his chest. "And I trust that Lupin has had the decency to inform her of his unfortunate condition before he gets to know her intimately?"

"That is not for us to concern ourselves with!" replied McGonagall sternly, clearly shocked his suggestion. Snape looked at Dumbledore, and then back to Minerva.

"Affairs of the heart between two people are generally considered to be between those two people. Sufficed to say that Mrs Frobisher will be returning to Hogwarts to recommence your work in three or four days' time."

"Three or four days?! But that's not nearly soon enough!" exclaimed Severus, his tone cut with urgency now and his demeanour fraught. "Have the change in circumstances not altered the situation sufficiently that you recognise we need to carry out our work hastily?!" He turned to Dumbledore, imploring him to acknowledge the severity of his message, his face contorted with profound distress.

Minerva felt her mouth fall open: in the many years that she had known Albus Dumbledore she had never heard anyone speak to him in such a manner.

She looked between the two wizards: between headmaster and teacher. Between headmaster and student. Between headmaster and Death Eater. The circles in which Snape must mix in order to obtain the information were ugly she knew, but not so bad that Albus Dumbledore would tolerate such disrespect.

"If you would excuse me, Headmaster," said Minerva, turning to look at Dumbledore. "I will be in my study on the ground floor should you require me."

Dumbledore waited until Professor McGonagall had made her way through the door at the bottom of the spiral staircase before turning to Snape, who was now on his knees on the flagstones of Dumbledore's office floor, looking at his fists which were bunched tightly together.

"Cecilia Frobisher is on the brink of discovering the depth of the muggle-wizard connection. She is in her own home, with an Order member who, if I recall, you pronounced to be the fastest curse-maker you knew when you were fifteen – " he watched as Snape looked up at him, "and she has access to information that she needs to satisfy her inner insecurities about the work you do."

Dumbledore waited until Snape had returned to his feet.

"She has insecurities. Yes, indeed she does. However the work is flawless, so I cannot understand her wasting time with that. It would be like undoing a jigsaw puzzle and starting all over again." Dumbledore looked at Snape, before taking a sheet of parchment from out of his desk drawer. He clicked his fingers and a quill appeared, long and sleek. He began to write whilst still looking at Snape.

"On the contrary. You appreciate, I assume, that despite the similarities between yourself and Mrs Frobisher, there are some differences?" Snape nodded, wordlessly.

"Then indulge me if you will, in an analogy of my own. You see, for Cecilia, her work in the muggle world is not wasteful. It is like taking another jigsaw puzzle, of the same scene, but looking at it from a different angle, to ensure that the logic adds up. It makes no sense to us, but it does to her."

Severus Snape nodded briefly for a moment, then stood quietly. Dumbledore took in his expression, recognising the seventeen-year-old that had stood on almost exactly the same spot as he was now, only twenty two years later. He clicked his fingers and the parchment folded itself into a letter shape before blinking out of existence.

"I intend to do it, headmaster. She has promised to see this through, and I presume to know her well enough that she is committed to her work, whatever we advise." Dumbledore said nothing; moved not one inch except to push up his spectacles slightly up his nose.

"And you believe this event will take place tomorrow night?" Snape inclined his head, looking at the floor.

"Early the following morning. In fact I have made arrangements for it to be so. I am prepared to carry this out – " he looked at Dumbledore directly in the eye as he spoke; there was no concealment or disguise to his feelings now; Severus Snape stood before the head of the Order of the Phoenix, exposed and raw, " – and I am fully aware of the consequences of my actions. I will do it. Tomorrow night."

Without another word he turned, making the long walk out of Dumbledore's office.

88888888

"I thought you said that your friend would be here in the afternoon?" Remus looked up from a book he was reading from Cecilia's settee. It was Boxing Day in the Frobisher household and following a very late rise from bed, Cecilia had decided she must get something practical done.

Now they were sitting in the living room, Cecilia going through her bag and tackling jobs as they came to hand. Remus on the other hand sat quietly and was making his way through Cecilia's collection of children's books.

Rising, Cecilia crossed the living room and looked out of the window, her work holding her current attention still in hand.

"No, there's no-one outside," said Cecilia, turning back to Remus as the cuckoo clock struck eleven. "And I _am_ expecting them this afternoon."

She returned to her seat and looked at Harry's essay in her hand. Both boys' work could not be described as particularly high quality however they had done their best. With a green Bic biro Cecilia continued to mark them for accuracy and effort, glancing curiously at Remus. He looked over the top of his book and smiled at her.

"What?" she asked, exasperated. "Have you found the answer to the meaning of life in there, or something?" She nodded towards Remus's book and he put it down "The Ladybird Book of Christmas Carols and Customs" on his lap, brushing the back of her hand softly with his.

"It's really interesting," he said, "we don't celebrate Boxing Day. An intriguing and thoughtful idea to share extra food and presents with those who have none." Cecilia frowned then looked through the open living room door as the doorbell rang, glancing back at Remus.

She recognised the car that had drawn up outside, and knew exactly who would be standing there.

"Amy!" Cecilia exclaimed, as her sister stood on the doorstep. If anything, she had grown taller and prettier since she had last seen her in the summer. That seemed like years ago and as her model-like sister beamed, Cecilia looked across at her beautiful silver Alfa spider…which didn't look quite so beautiful as she remembered it.

"Sis!" Amy looked at Cecilia, taking in her appearance. "You've lost weight! How's the job going? It's great looking after your house; I hope you noticed how well I've looked after it! And the car. Libby got your letter. I heard you spoke to her on the phone. And mum. She's driving me potty! Aren't you going to invite me in?" Amy beamed at Cecilia again, looking round the front door expectantly.

"Right, yes, sure," said Cecilia uncertainly, "…just…" but it was too late to ask Remus to excuse them, but she knew her sister would fire a thousand and one questions at her if she so much as thought Cecilia had company; it had almost finished her off when she and Tim had split up.

"…Amy!" she shouted as her sister walked past her and straight into the living room. "Not in there…the kitchen...!" But it was too late.

"This is – " Cecilia stopped, blinking as she looked at the seat on the settee where Remus had been sitting. He wasn't there. She gasped, looking round the room.

"Well, you could have tidied up," said Amy, looking disapprovingly at the newspapers and books Cecilia had spread out on the coffee table. "After I took such an effort to make sure it was tidy."

"You did? Oh, you did," agreed Cecilia quickly, nodding at Amy, who hadn't noticed. "This is a lovely surprise. I did apologise to mum for not visiting yesterday; I got back quite early in the morning. The only time I could get transport on Christmas Day," she added. It wasn't a lie; just not quite the truth.

"A cup of tea?" asked Cecilia as Amy perused the papers, glancing momentarily at the ladybird book on the table.

"Yes," said Amy. "Coffee, if you have any. Black. I'm on a diet. Trying to get back into my size eight jeans."

"Would you like to help me make it?" insisted Cecilia, as Amy sat idly back on the settee, folding one leg underneath her, lifestyle magazine section of the newspaper in hand.

"What? Oh, yes of course," she said, putting it down. "You can tell me about your job. And all the people you've met. And, of course, any hot men that you've got your eye on…" Amy gave her sister a knowing look. Cecilia rolled her eyes, before raising her eyebrows sternly.

"And _you_ can tell me why my car looks like you've been using it at Brands Hatch…"

…an hour later and Cecilia was sitting back down, reading through Ron's essay now, idly correcting some spelling errors as she tried to cleanse her soul of the superficiality of her sister's life.

It wasn't that she didn't love her sister; Amy was a wonderful person, full of life, happy-go-lucky and carefree. It was that Cecilia was like her sister in so few ways. Whereas Amy's ideal Saturday night would be to organise a huge gang of her friends to visit a club, having spent all day buying clothes she would only wear once on her credit card, at Amy's age Cecilia would far rather come in from a day walking somewhere and taking in a view or historic location, having first researched it, and spend the evening with the intimate company of Libby either at home, or the theatre, opera or film.

But it was good to see her, as it was to be home, in familiar surroundings. Although it was strange how quickly she had got used to the unexpected to happen, and had found herself over the last couple of days being a little confused at the straightforwardness of everything.

Smiling, Cecilia turned the page of Ron's essay, straining to read his small and untidy writing. Was that a "pool" there or did it say "rod"?

Once Amy had left, sheepishly leaving Cecilia's car parked on the drive, her mind had turned to the whereabouts of Remus. She not been very surprised to see him sitting on the settee, where he had been before her sister had arrived, and he glanced up from the "Christmas Customs" book as she closed the front door.

"Don't tell me, you went very suddenly to see a man about a dog," Cecilia asked, stepping past his feet which were up on the coffee table, modelling her pink tartan slippers again. "And how did you know that she was coming? There was a good five-minute delay between you saying it, and her turning up." She frowned at Remus, as if trying to work it out, and he smiled at her, tapping his nose and saying nothing…

"I thought you said that your friend would be here in the afternoon?" Remus asked nonchalantly a few hours later looked up from "King Alfred the Great".

This time, Cecilia smiled at him, stroking his hair with her hand as she glanced down to the page he was reading.

"Yes, this is the afternoon," she said, getting to her feet. "I arranged with Libs that they'd be here at four, and it's now eight minutes-past," she clarified. "Which means that in a couple of minutes' time she'll knock on the door and apologise for being late, which she has done every time we arrange something, and I'll tell her that she wasn't."

Remus watched Cecilia pace over to the Vellytision before returning to his book. Cecilia glanced at the video clock. Nine minutes-past.

As she was about to walk towards the living room door, Remus took her hand and pulled her back down onto his lap, kissing her firmly on the lips.

"Women," he said. "Sometimes you can be very confusing."

The doorbell went and Celia got to her feet again.

"See? But that's because I know my friend, not because I've got super strength dog hearing."

Before she got to the door it opened; her god-daughter Freya pushing against the wood-effect panelling and dashing round the other side like an overexcited Labrador puppy.

"Aunty Celia!" Freya bounded up into her arms like a whirlwind, throwing her full weight (probably all of five stone, thought Cecilia) against her and covering her face with kisses.

"Aunty Celia! Merry Christmas!"

Cecilia staggered a second before she got her balance, holding onto her beloved god-daughter, allowing her to kiss her again as her mother stepped into the hall behind her.

"Sorry Cec," said Libby, apologetically. "She fished out your key from the glovebox and I couldn't stop her. She's missed you."

From the look on her friend's face, Cecilia could tell that she'd missed her almost as much as her daughter.

"Libby!" Cecilia hugged her best friend with her free right arm, squeezing her to her shoulder and sighing. "It's great so great to see you. How's your Christmas been?"

"Fine," replied Libby, sagging at the shoulders. "Tiring," she added. "Better now you're here and I can see you're well…and so thin," she continued, looking Cecilia up and down as Freya wriggled out of her arms.

"How are you? And how's your work?" Cecilia realised too late that her friend was heading towards the living room, following in the steps of her daughter…

"Who's this man, Aunty Celia?" Freya bounced back to Cecilia, looking up at her and addressing her in a sing-song voice. Cecilia narrowed her eyes, knowing her god-daughter was being provocative; a thought that was confirmed when her mother stopped in her tracks, looking at Remus, her mouth opening in astonishment.

Remus glanced over the top of the children's book looking sheepishly at Cecilia; obviously too slow to pull the same disappearing trick he had done when her sister had arrived.

"Libby," said Cecilia firmly, determined to take the situation in hand. "This is Remus. A work colleague. Remus," she looked at him, gesturing to Libby. "My best friend Libby." She felt a nudge on her shin.

"And her daughter, Freya," she added.

"Freya," said Freya, strolling up boldly to Remus and sticking out a hand.

"I'm Aunty Celia's god-daughter. Pleased to meet you. I'm eight." Remus glanced at Cecilia before looking back at Freya and took her hand.

"Very pleased to meet you, Freya," he said softly, shaking it firmly. "Remus Lupin. I'm not eight," he added. Freya giggled in delight.

"Remus," said Libby, stepping forward and picking up Freya in her arms. "Pleased to meet you." She looked back at Cecilia, eyebrows raised and Cecilia rolled her eyes. Not you, she thought. I expected it off Amy. But you're my sane friend Libby.

"Go on, Freya," said Cecilia as she watched her god-daughter eyeing the games and books that she knew Cecilia kept in the sideboard cupboard for her. "There might be some new ones." She never normally needed any encouragement.

"A very unusual name," she continued, moving Cecilia's marking onto the coffee table without looking at it and sitting down next to Remus. "Is it French?"

"Latin, I think," he replied. "And Libby is short for Elizabeth?" Cecilia saw her friend blush slightly at the complement.

"Short for Libby," said Cecilia, taking her friend by the hand as Freya darted past them towards the children's books. "Come on, Elizabeth, come and help me make some tea."

"Then we can talk," replied Libby, decisively, another look washing her face now and she got to her feet, following Cecilia. She glanced at Remus as they turned into the hall.

"How's Derek?" asked Cecila, as she crossed over the kitchen floor and unplugged the kettle.

"Forget Derek!" exclaimed Libby, "I want to know about Remus." She took in Cecilia's glance.

"You are always so predictable, right up until the moment that you're not, and then you go all secretive," complained Libby, getting the mugs out of the overhead cupboard. "Suit yourself; you'll tell me eventually. Nick already told me he'd had a visit from you and two mysterious strangers. Was he one of them?" Cecilia shot her a look.

"Okay, okay, I know. He told me it was undercover. But he seemed to be rather struck on one of them; though when I asked him to describe her, he had difficulty."

"We didn't stay for long," said Cecilia, placing some teabags in the mugs and chuckling inwardly to herself. "Sorry we couldn't come to visit; tight schedule. It's seemed to be like that since I returned to H – London in September." Cecilia followed Libby and sat down on a kitchen chair.

"Well, you seem to have fallen on your feet there; he seems like a lovely chap. Reserved. Doesn't look like Tim at all – " Libby stopped her musings as she saw the look on Cecilia's face.

"Sorry," she said, but Cecilia shook her head.

"Yes, he is special. But I can't say too much about it; I agreed to a code of secrecy, and I don't intend to break it. Not even for my best friend – " she leaned over and hugged Libby's arm again.

"You don't know how wonderful it is to see you!"

"Well you haven't seemed happier in a long time. Looks like whatever it is you've been doing is agreeing with you." Cecilia felt herself nodding in agreement, ignoring the mental kicks her conscious was giving her, reminding her of the many exceptions.

"And you said "when you've finished". I thought you said you'd be finished by Christmas." Her friend looked downcast and Cecilia began to feel guilty.

"The nature of research," said Cecilia apologetically. "You can't really plan for the future, you can only say after you've done it. I've been successful but there's still more work to be done…"

"…and you've moved on from Tim." Libby was sitting on Cecilia's bed, noting a worn Harristwill jacket hung over the back of the dressing table chair. Cecilia had made the tea and taken in tea to Remus and Freya.

They looked up from "The Elves and the Shoemaker" as she set down the tray and her god-daughter wriggled off Remus's lap to retrieve her drink before settling back down in his lap and pointing at the illustrations as Remus began to read, who raised his eyebrows at Cecilia.

She continued to register is soft and steady tone as she and her friend went upstairs to her room. It had been Libby's suggestion; Cecilia couldn't see why her friend didn't want to speak to her in the kitchen, but the look she had seen earlier, a look her friend had given to her before, she recalled, had stopped her from arguing.

"Hm," said Cecilia, picking up her tea and considered her friend's statement as glanced at Remus's jacket now. "That's a very neat way of putting it, Libs," she replied, frowning slightly at her friend. "I think this work's done me good on the whole. I don't feel for him as I used to, that much is true." Cecilia looked away, opening up the bottom of her chest of drawers.

"It's hard to put into words," she continued, pulling out a picture. It had been one that was ordinary, plain. Not a wedding one, or of anything in particular, but one of them in the Lake District, near Keswick, which a Dutch woman had taken with Cecilia's old 35mm.

Tim was hugging her round her very fat waist, made so by the layers of clothes she had decided to wear, and she was touching his arms. They were both smiling widely, both really happy. It was one that Cecilia thought was when she was probably at her happiest with her husband.

"Days and days can go by without me thinking of him," she looked at the picture, touching the frame very lightly with her fingers, "then something stupid pops into my mind, like a view I know we've seen before, or a smell. And I think about the old times. But we'd gone our separate ways. Even if he hadn't died, I think he would have faded. But I'm not sure if I'll ever stop loving him."

Cecilia looked up at Libby, her friend's hand on her shoulder and Cecilia looked down her arm, smiling wanly at her. And whether the euphoria I feel for Remus Lupin, wizard and all round wonderful man is love, lust or what, she thought. You'd know. But I can't ask you.

"It's good to be back doing science," Cecilia continued, changing the subject and placing the picture face down on the bed. "The cutting edge, the – "

" – evasion of the point," said Libby sternly. "So you're not sure whether you're over Tim. You don't know what "over Tim" feels like. And Remus?"

"Well, we've – " Cecilia felt herself blush; the same way she had done when she had first told her friend that she had been asked out by Rachel Frobisher's older brother.

"You've had sex; shagged; made love; ripped each other's clothes off," said Libby, rolling her eyes. "Anyone could have guessed that," she added. "And is he any good?" Cecilia looked at Libby, astounded.

"Oh alright then, I shouldn't have asked that. I'll take that as a yes," she noted, as Cecilia blushed the same colour as her old slippers that Remus was wearing. "Am I to expect he's just a five minute wonder, or is it love? Should I be setting a sixth place for dinner next Christmas at our table?" she rephrased, noticing her friend going redder.

"We'll see," said Cecilia, the words "love? It feels like love" materialised in her mind as she leaned towards the drawer to replace the picture. "We haven't discussed – sorry, a sixth place?" She looked in curiosity and then in happy realisation as Libby looked down in the region of her stomach, her hand drifting over it. A look of sheer serenity passed across her features.

As silence reigned for a few moments two friends engaged in silent conversation and Cecilia thought she could vaguely hear Remus telling the "Grimelda" story downstairs.

"Three months," replied Libby, her face a picture of impending motherhood as she replied to Cecilia's unspoken question. She turned, taking Cecilia's hands and holding them and Cecilia felt a bubble of joy rise up from her stomach, up through her chest and into her mouth.

"Oh…oh, Libby," she began, looking her friend up and down. "Congratulations; that's wonderful news…"

"Derek wants it to be another girl, a sister for Freya, but I hope it'll be a boy."

"Have you thought about names?" asked Cecilia, remembering the last time her friend was pregnant; how it had taken her and Derek almost the whole of her pregnancy to narrow down one boy and one girl name. Libby nodded again.

"I gave the job of girl's names to Derek. He's going to choose that. If it's a boy…" Libby's voice trailed off as she recalled them. "If it's a boy, I like George. Also Richard. Traditional names. I had been toying with Timothy – " she looked quickly at Cecilia, who retuned the look. "Also Derek, after his father. But Derek quite likes the idea of his name being a middle name. Also, Frederick, Patrick, Henry."

"Henry?" asked Cecilia, doubtfully. "Like Henry VIII?"

"No, after my Uncle Henry," said Libby. "And if he doesn't like it, we can call him by the diminutive, Harry." Cecilia gave a sharp intake of breath, and looked at her friend in shock.

"Not Harry? As in, "When Harry met Sally"? Oh, well, I suppose you have some say, seeing as I would like you to be godmother to bump when it arrives." She leaned over to embrace Cecilia, who felt quite overwhelmed.

"So, end of June, or early July then," she whispered to Libby's ear. "Yes, of course I'll be its godmother."

"Now you're sure you'll be finished your work by then? I wouldn't want it to be godmotherless in its early months, nor Freya, any more. She's missed you as much as I have, you do realise that? Did you get her drawing by the way?" She let go of Cecilia, and picked up her tea.

"Tippex had her kittens," replied Cecilia. "And they were going for cold, hard cash at school?"

"Until Mrs Dreaves caught her, and sent her home with them in the middle of the day," laughed Libby. It was a good job I was in at the time, or else I don't know what would have happened!"

Libby and Cecilia continued to chat for another half an hour. They talked through mundane things: Libby's work, her mum, the price of petrol, the new road being built just south of Edgeford, the economy and Cecilia was glad she still kept up to date using the self-updating Muggle Studies books which had been mysteriously left outside the classroom all those months ago.

As the conversation petered out, Cecilia felt her heart sink as Libby took her by the hands and kissed her on the cheek. Usually at this point they organised another date and time to see one another; when they would be meeting for coffee, or going out shopping together.

She felt out of the loop; out of her usual routine. Yes, of course they were chatting like old friends, about important things. And of course Cecilia was promising her she would tell her everything when the time was right. But that couldn't be now; now at a time when she so needed to talk to Libby. Now when she wanted her advice over many, many things. And that's what hurt the most.

Eventually both women made their way downstairs, and Libby handed Cecilia back her teacup in exchange for her coat and scarf. Cecilia led Libby to the front door, peering round the living room door when she registered silence to find Remus in the armchair reading a newspaper.

He glanced up at Cecilia when she looked in, and looked across to the sofa. Cecilia and Libby followed his glance and there was Freya Elizabeth fast asleep, her chestnut-brown hair cascading over the edge of the settee, contrasting beautifully with Cecilia's cream sofa, with a book clasped tightly in her hands.

Libby and Cecilia exchanged looks before Freya's mother walked into the living room. On cue, Freya woke up, rubbing her eyes and looking bewildered for a second.

"Are we going home now, mummy? Are we leaving Aunty Celia's house?" she asked, with an innocent look of, "what can I get away with? in her eyes.

"We certainly are, darling," replied Libby firmly, having none of it. "And what have you got there? I didn't know you had any new books, Cec?"

"Only the Ladybirds," said Cecilia, crossing the living room and sitting on the sofa. It was. It was "Mysterious Mythology". She'd recognise that cover anywhere. "Where did you find that one, eh?" Remus looked at her sharply.

"I found it under the stairs, Aunty Celia. And that man with the pink slippers read me a lovely story. He's nice. Can I keep it?" Libby saw a look of horror in Cecilia's face and turned to her daughter.

"I really think you've got plenty of books at home, darling," she said quickly. "And if it's Aunty Celia's, then you can't."

"But the stories are really pretty!" protested Freya. "And you always give me something when I come and visit."

"Freya!"

"But she does, don't you?" Freya turned her look of contrived innocence to her Aunt Celia. Cecilia felt herself nodding.

"But not that book, sweetheart. You can choose another book from the cupboard."

"Oh, but I want this one!" Freya protested. "He said it was the best book in the world," she added, throwing weight behind her cause.

"I did," said Remus, smiling at the girl. "But I gave that book to your Aunty Celia, and she has been using it in her work. I expect when she's finished with it, she'll let you have it then." Cecilia looked at Remus, who smiled evenly back at her.

"And I have," said Cecilia, stroking Freya on the head as the thought of where they would be going in the next few days and what they would be collecting from a certain scene of magical crime flashed across her conscious mind.

"Mind you, it is a very special book, with very special stories in it. Do you think you could take extra special care of it for me while I'm away?" Freya nodded overdramatically, before fixing Cecilia with a stare.

"You're going away again? With him?" she pointed towards Remus who had chosen just that moment to hide behind the newspaper again. Cecilia shook her head.

"With work," she said. "To help discover some more things," she qualified, a feeling of regret at leaving Freya again very soon clinging like a cloud in her chest. "So if you can look after this book for me, you'll make me the happiest Aunty in the world. Can you do that?"

Freya nodded again, and reached out to hug Cecilia; Mysterious Mythology between them.

"I'm going to miss you," Freya continued, waving as Cecilia crossed the floor and opened the front door, her mother leading her through it.

"So," began Remus, looking back up from the newspaper as Cecilia returned to the living room. "Your friend seemed nice. And her daughter."

"Libby," said Cecilia distantly as she sat back down and pulled out the marking of Ron's essay that she had been doing before they had arrived.

"And Freya. I know she'll look after the book, Remus. I heard you reading "Grimelda" to her."

"And when would you like me to take you to Godric's Hollow?" he asked, putting down the paper and getting to his feet.

"Hm?" Cecilia looked sharply at Remus. "Godric's Hollow?" Light dawned and she turned in realisation to look at her wonderful man.

…hers?

"This afternoon?" she asked hopefully. Then she could get over to Nick's work and run the DNA analysis, otherwise it would take far longer if she had to do it by hand at Hogwarts. Remus looked down.

"Not this afternoon," he replied, is shoulders sagging. "I'm not feeling quite myself. How about tomorrow?"

Not feeling well, thought Cecilia. In the usual sense, or something magical? Could she do anything? Should she ask him?

"Not tomorrow either; I'm due at mum's at one o'clock." Remus looked crestfallen. "You mean you're not spending the whole day in bed with me?" he asked playfully. Cecilia tapped him on the arm in return; she'd told him! He knew!

"So that leaves Friday," confirmed Remus, reaching over to Cecilia's waist and pulling her onto his lap. "Your fourth day."

"Friday," she replied as Remus leaned over her and kissed her, setting alight her senses, her mind, body…mmm.

88888888

Darkness.

Except for a tiny glimmer of light in a muggle house in the middle of England.

"It's nearly your time of month, old thing." Sirius's head flickered green in Cecilia Frobisher gas fire.

"Yes."

"You look exhausted."

"Dumbledore said the odds have been upped. Not in those words, of course. I've seen neither a hide nor hair of anything so far, though."

"You still want to stay with her." It wasn't a question. Like Cecilia Frobisher knew her friend, Sirius knew his.

"I've not told her."

"Tonks is worried about you. We all are…"

"Here we go, Sirius, Tonks – " Remus shifted in front of the fire. Neither position felt particularly comfortable, and the pain in his back and limbs was getting worse as every hour passed.

"No – I didn't mean it like that."

"I didn't ever promise her anything, Sirius."

"But it was implied." Sirius knew it was cruel, but it had to be said. "You never denied it and she thought you were still in love with Lily."

Lily. Remus considered his old friend. She was there for him at a time when he no-one else was. How could he not love her?

"Well, she'll find out by tomorrow herself Moony, whether you want her to or not."

Remus said nothing. Since the moment Cecilia had kissed him, in Tonks's room at Grimmauld Place he had considered little else.

"Things have changed, they are not what I thought them to be – "

"Dumbledore said."

"If I'd have known, Remus, why on earth didn't you stop me yesterday? It was not like I planned it…"

"Well actually, you admitted to everyone that you did. Cecilia is safe here, with me."

"She will not accept you, you do realise that…not after – "

"Yes, I am fully aware what the situation is like, Sirius…but Lily was a witch, accustomed to magical things…"

"And how is that better? Surely it is worse?"

Cecilia didn't judge people in the way that wizards did. There was a chance, always a small chance that she could accept him. But could he really put her through it?

"The month has left me with no choice."

"Then I will see you in Forbidden Forest."

Remus nodded, stiffly and Sirius returned it.

The fire dimmed and the room went dark. Only the moon, shrouded by cloud, tormentingly close to fullness lit the room.

Remus looked at the sheet of blank paper he had found in Cecilia's spare room which lay near her green biro on the coffee table. Tears in his eyes he began to write…

88888888

It was nearly midnight when Cecilia returned home.

People say that the worst feature of Christmas was that you have to spend time with relatives that you can't stand. This, they say, is due to three reasons: you have to pretend to like the presents you're given; you become more relaxed and are therefore more likely to say what you feel, rather than what you say the rest of the year out of politeness.

And the third reason was because while you cannot choose your family as you can your friends, you can choose to reveal their dark and deepest embarrassing moments, and they yours, when you've had one too many whilst pursuing reason number two.

Tension, like a coiled spring that had been almost at breaking point, got less and less each step Cecilia was to home. Rejecting the offer that her mother had made of calling a taxi, she told her that she would feel better after a good walk home, promising to pick up the telephone and let the connection ring three times to let her know she was home safely.

It wasn't that she couldn't stand her mother; she loved her very much. But as the years progressed, through her marriage and independence, Cecilia's tolerance to her mother's fussing had decreased and what had made the visit doubly hard was that Jane Wells could imperceptibly determine when Cecilia was telling a lie or evading telling the truth.

Cecilia made her way along Edgeford High Street, beautifully decorated with lights as she tried to forget the last seven hours filled with Mrs Wells's concern of the lack of contact she had made in the last six months; how well Mrs Frobisher senior was looking and the minutiae of the conversation she had had with Cecilia's mother-in-law…

…and hadn't Cecilia lost weight; the clothes she had bought her for Christmas wouldn't fit now…but she could take them back to M and S because the receipts were in the bag…and how Justine Frobisher, Cecilia's other sister-in-law had married and moved to Canada and how wonderful that must have been…and how she hoped it wouldn't be long before Amy settled down, and got herself a proper job, and considered her money, and perhaps it wasn't too late for her to go to University…

The row shops had slipped past Cecilia's line of sight now, and the street gave way to Victorian terraced houses. The lights in the window and the overflowing recycling and dustbins told the stories of other peoples' Christmases; a child here with a pink bike; another two doors down with a new television…

…at least her sister had taken the brunt of it in absentia this time and Cecilia silently thanked her sister for her thoughtlessness, which had worked in Cecilia's favour…

The knot in her stomach had begun to untighten now as she made her way into Acacia Avenue, where Victorian terraces morphed into large, 1930s detached houses, with long gravel driveways and tall evergreen trees. The streetlights became more spaced out now, whether by accident or design but residents' own lights dotted around automatic gates more than made up for it.

Cecilia's thoughts drifted now to thoughts of the future; a topic who up until then she had ignored over a more lackadaisical, carefree approach. She wasn't by nature spontaneous; she'd wondered more than once over the last couple of days where her blitheness had come from and had come to the conclusion that it was a self defence mechanism. A well-known psychological phenomenon…

…now she was only ten minutes away from home, she thought as Cecilia stepped out the next half mile as her spirits soared with her increased pulse-rate as she anticipated home, and who would be there…

…she would speak to him; they had agreed to do so when she returned; plan what they would do…decide whether it was the right course of action…be grown up about it…

…and as she put the key in the lock, Cecilia failed to notice the absence of lights as she strode into the kitchen and did her duty with "three rings". Once she'd done that, she flicked on the lights, making her way over to the kettle and unplugging it, filling it up with water and putting it on to boil.

Pulling out a couple of mugs from the cupboard above, she smiled as she pulled out a bottle of milk she had remembered to buy from the local shop that morning. Remus could have milk in his tea without having to resort to horrible, inconvenient magic…

…Remus. Well, he wasn't in the living room; the light wasn't on. Unless he was asleep, Cecilia thought as she walked out of the kitchen and into the hall, which was possible as he had been quite tired that morning…

…no. He wasn't there. Cecilia turned to switch off the light and make her way upstairs, to see whether he'd gone to bed…no. Not upstairs.

Returning to the kitchen, Cecilia poured one cup of tea and made her way back to the living room, idly wondering where he would be.

And that's when she saw the note, lying unobtrusively on the coffee table.

She picked up her cup, taking a sip, speculating on what it would say…

…and the world stopped…

…the hot black tea seeped through the cream fabric of the settee, inching its way towards the curtain. The last few drips clung to the rim of the cup which lay vertically on the floor, bereft of its contents now. She sank to her knees, her wrist catching the edge of the table and her new skirt, a gift from her mother tearing at the hem.

None of these events registered in Cecilia's subconscious as she gripped the note, the green pen shaping two bitter words indelibly on the paper.

And without warning, Cecilia crumpled. Anguish wracked her body and hot tears cut saline valleys deep into her cheeks. Her body shook involuntarily and she sobbed harder than ever she had done before…

…time passed…

…she did not know how long she sat there, shocked and broken on her living room carpet. Feelings started to penetrate her hypothalamus and her subconscious patrolled the front line of her mental defence, repelling negative, bitter shots with calming, consoling caresses.

Slowly, her tears began to dry up, and the passing of time began to register again. Quarter to one. Cecilia realised she had been sitting on the floor for half an hour. Had she gone to sleep?

"Oh bloody hell!" Cecilia blasphemed aloud. "You are so pathetic! He's dumped you, you stupid fool, and you cry yourself to sleep like some love-sick teenager? Like you're name's Ellie, and you're a blonde, willowy six foot thing who swoons when someone winks at her and thinks it's a major crisis if she breaks a nail!"

Cecilia knelt forward, her breath was still ragged; a flow of lactic acid replaced in her muscles by glucose molecules as she breathed deeper and more evenly; the cramp in her leg muscles dissolved away as her strength returned.

"Of course he was going to leave you, he's a man! He was running away from his problems, and now you were the problem!" She clenched her fists, furious with herself for her own imperfections, digging her never-before-tonight-manicured nails hard into her palms.

"It's not like you're even good looking; not stunning; head turning! Who looks at the plain girl when the pretty, young, slim girl…the sweet, baggage-less girl – " she leaned over to the picture of her and Tim that she had seen Remus staring at yesterday morning, and throwing it at the wall, " – when _that_ girl is right back at his best friend's house!?" she raged.

Was that fair? She'd just spent a fantastic three days with Remus. Well, he'd been at her house for three days. Three breathtaking, soul-melting days. Days that would be the making of a perfect romance, worthy of a screen performance portrayed by the likes of Kate Winslet and Leonard DiCaprio.

Cecilia looked down at the piece of paper crumpled in her hand as the biochemical process of respiration clicked into place in her mind. This time, the words would be gone, she told herself. This time, it wouldn't say that.

And if, by an extraordinary coincidence that they were there then they didn't mean what she had first taken them to mean.

Carefully, she uncrumpled the page. Three quarters of the way down, she knew, the two words were.

Sorry. Goodbye.

This time, the tears weren't choked but they flowed torrentially from her eyes as they had done before and she screwed up the note again, dropping it on the coffee table. How could she believe she'd misinterpreted his message?

Cecilia pulled herself up onto the sofa, glancing at the telephone that lay next to the Christmas tree. She badly wanted to call Libby, to tell her about this; how foolish and used she felt. To have her best friend in all the world comfort and console her, telling her that it would all be all right again.

But in order to explain why she hurt so badly would mean she would have to discuss the magic world with her, which was out of the question, or tell her every five minutes that she couldn't tell her the details because of the Official Secrets Act. Libby didn't need that: it wasn't fair.

Cecilia looked away again and back at the note on the coffee table. There was no misunderstanding. Remus had dumped her, simple as that, underlining their association with two very simple w–

- a "CRACK" broke the still of the early morning silence like a stone against a plate glass window. Cecilia let out a shrill scream. Getting to her feet she instinctively rushed toward where the sound had come from, her first thoughts filling her head that it was…

"CRACK"

"CRACK"

Green light flashed in her hall. Cecilia looked harder into the darkness.

"Remus?" She whispered tentatively. When there was no reply, she took another step, bolder and more furious this time towards the obviously magical disturbance.

"Come on then, whoever you are!" The words tore from her lungs as her pain was transformed to aggression and the volume of her voice increased with every word. "Sirius? If it's you and you've come to see me, come to gloat then I'll warn you now, you're in _MY_ house now and – "

"Mrs Frobisher. Cecilia." She blinked in the darkness. She recognised the voice. And the form that was approaching.

"I apologise for the intrusion, and that I had to depart so suddenly on Christmas Eve. I made the presumption that you would understand."

As she sagged to her knees, Severus Snape caught her under the arms, pulling her back to her feet. Cecilia put her arms around him, unthinking, uncaring about protocol or propriety and began to sob again. Eventually the tears subsided and she wiped her eyes, pulling away. Snape said nothing, waiting for her to take the lead.

"…well, it's very nice to see you, Severus, so early in the morning. Would you like a cup of tea?" She gestured in the direction of the kitchen and Snape turned before turning back.

"Mrs Frobisher. I apologise for arriving here at such an hour. Perhaps we could go into your living room? This is quite urgent."

Nodding dumbly, Cecilia led the way and sat down on the arm of the settee. She followed Snape's gaze as it took in the tea cup, and stain on the furniture, the broken picture and the scar in the wall paper. The crumpled piece of paper on the coffee table.

"Before I begin, I should say that your presence is required urgently at Hogwarts in order to continue with our work. I should also say that due to a change in security levels which the Order of the Phoenix are struggling to manage and my own presence being required for other work - " he held up a hand as Cecilia was about to interrupt, "- we need to leave as soon as possible."

Cecilia looked away. She had barely given Severus a thought since the party. Her mind had been so wrapped up with other things. Oh, she had considered her work sure enough; Snape had been there, as part of the scenery, in her minds' eye when she had planned the work they would be doing.

And now he was here, when she was at her most vulnerable, when not just one, but two wizards had treated her so cruelly.

"Also may I say, for the record Cecilia, that certain members of the wizard community have treated you most ill. For that, I extend my condolences."

Cecilia returned her gaze to Snape, feeling her heart splinter in her chest again. Without saying anything, she walked towards him, patting his hand as it rested on the back of her chair.

"Thank you," she said, her voice clipped and short. "I'll be five minutes."

She had her bags packed within five minutes, stumbling down the stairs with her two bags stuffed with items of clothing, books and other paraphernalia collected as quickly as she could, some which hadn't even left her bags and others that had been in her room and in the spare room, unsorted and raked together like leaves.

Snape was at the bottom of the stairs and he pulled out his wand, long and spindly from inside his robe, as if to help her.

"No," said Cecilia, struggling with the bags. "Carry them if you like, but no magic. I'm not quite ready to leave my world just yet."

Without arguing, Snape took both of her bags, following her into the hall. Cecilia poked her head round the living room door, checking she had picked up everything she wanted, she opened the telephone table drawer and pulled out a pen, scribbling a note in the flowery-covered book that was within to let Amy know she had left.

Throwing in her house-key and dragging her mind away from anything other than their departure she got to her feet, sighing deeply and glancing at the floor.

"Come on," she said, looking at Snape. She got to her feet and put her hand on the doorknob.

"Where?" Severus looked back, still holding her bags. "We need to leave now, Cecilia," he reminded her, taking a step towards the living room.

"No," she replied. Snape stopped mid-step and looked at her.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts so we can do the work" she clarified, "but not by Floo. Not by broom or Knight Bus or portkey or by any other magical means. I couldn't face that just yet. If you're intending to accompany me, then come on. Otherwise, I'll see you near Hogsmeade in about six hours' time."

Turning, Cecilia made her way out of her front door; her car key in her hand that she had swapped her house key for out of the telephone drawer. To her surprise, Snape followed her, allowing the door to shut locked behind him.

He looked at her wordlessly as she threw open the boot of her car, lovingly mistreated Cecilia thought bitterly, by her sister. Once her overfilled bags were in, she slammed it closed with all her might, hurrying round to the right-hand side and jumping into the driver's seat.

Snape followed her, sitting himself uneasily in the passenger seat. Cecilia looked at him, her eyes narrowing, and she leaned across him, pulling on his seatbelt.

"Safety," said Cecilia, leaning back in her seat and starting the Alfa Romeo car. "I don't think there'll be much chance of me driving slowly tonight," she added, turning the key in the ignition and flicking on the headlights.

"It seems an adequate vehicle," commented Snape politely. "I do hope you'll not be exceeding the legal speed limits." Cecilia nodded in total disagreement, revving the engine high a few times as she threw the gearstick into reverse.

As they tore off down the street at high speed in Cecilia's almost beautiful sports car, lights flicked on randomly in houses as she passed. If she had been in any shape to notice, Cecilia would probably have smiled.

88888888

"I trust Mrs Frobisher is now at Hogwarts?"

"Indeed, Headmaster, she is in her room, sleeping following a Draught of Peace. I believe the last few days have taken it out of her. However if you wish to speak to her now, I can send an elf…"

"Mm," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "No, let her sleep. It will cleanse her and help her heal. She is a strong muggle, Severus but a muggle still. We cannot pretend she will not be affected by either Sirius Black's or Remus Lupin's actions."

"Perhaps it would be easier on her if we told her?" Minerva folded his arms, speaking quietly. "Cecilia is broad-minded and not the type of person to allow just anyone into her heart from what I can see. She would understand." Dumbledore glanced at Minerva and was about to speak when Snape took a step forward.

"It's doesn't concern us; it mustn't. Lupin's business is his own. She must see that work and life are separate – " Snape glanced across to her, withholding as much of himself as he could.

"But they _are _connected – Albus, don't you see?" Minerva looked between Snape and Dumbledore. "If she continues with her work, she will be involved with both wizards. A cruelty," Minerva concluded, shaking her head slowly.

"Black's reaction demonstrates his incapacity to accept the use of Lily Potter in our work will be to Harry's advantage. The task the boy is to undertake is dangerous and any assistance she can afford him should be welcomed, whatever the means."

"Dangerous?" exclaimed Minerva McGonagall sharply. "Dangerous?! Potter will be stripped of his powers with the potion you are developing and at the present time you have no reassurances that he will regain them…_if _he survives!" She wrung her hands in despair at Snape's understatement of the situation.

Dumbledore rose from his chair again, considering both of the teachers before him. Both of them had the best interests of their greatest asset at heart and both of them with whom he must allow to continue to do so, each from their own standpoint.

"I agree with you both. It was always a risk that I anticipated before I contemplated muggle involvement and for the second time this week I must confess to a lack of anticipation in the actions of an Order member. I did not expect Sirius Black to declare her misborn and this presents us with a new set of difficulties for it is an open invitation for any wizard to legally do away with her. Especially considering the precariousness of Mrs Frobisher's situation." He rose to his feet, looking at both Minerva and Snape again as he spoke steadily.

"She is connected both personally now and professionally. Her single mindedness and dedication is remarkable and I know she will not be dissuaded easily from either aspect of the work for she believes them to be inextricably linked." Both professors were looking at him now, unmoving and silent. Dumbledore had always allowed Cecilia Frobisher to work on her own, and had been firm in dissuading them from guiding her course.

"Mrs Frobisher must be persuaded to concentrate only on the potion for Harry however she is not safe however she feels, at Hogwarts and so her work must be swift as well as accurate."

"It is for this reason that I must now reveal to you – " Dumbledore stopped suddenly, darting a glance at both McGonagall and Snape.

No, not at them, past them, then turning swiftly, towards the portraits. Then quickly behind him towards Fawkes before raising his wand and thrusting his arm quickly forward towards the main door that led down the spiral staircase and onto the second floor of the castle.

A rim of silver blue light outlined the door; sparks crackled off it and Dumbledore turned quickly thrusting his arm out to the back door. Despite being shrouded by a curtain; its outline illuminated in silver blue, like the first.

Then Dumbledore turned in a circle three times anticlockwise, his beard spinning out as he went, and he cast three spells: imperceptibility; imperturbability and uninterpretability, each making the room's walls fizz in different colours, as if the room was being dissolved in a strong acid.

Dumbledore turned back to his Professors who had mutely watched him perform the strongest combination of spells they knew. The room was now safe from every known intelligence and intrusion spell in existence.

Finally, Dumbledore flicked his wand, conjuring a settee of violet hue and bedecked with large comfortable cushions.

"Please, sit," he gestured as he began to pace before his desk. "I have need to disclose to you sensitive and potentially dangerous information which are in fact the very the answers that Cecilia Frobisher is seeking."

Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape exchanged glances before looking at Dumbledore. He was not normally this detailed and they could only assume that what he was about to reveal to them was very important indeed.

"Had there not been a change in circumstances, I would allow her to continue her research in her own manner. You have always known that there would be only a slim chance that Cecilia Frobisher could pull it off. This has now narrowed to within the breath of a hair."

"But Headmaster, surely we are aware of the circumstances. They are not vital to the making of the potion." Snape looked incredulously at Dumbledore as he stopped pacing and flicked his wand so an armchair of the same design as the settee appeared before McGonagall and Snape and then sat on it gently.

"You are both aware of some of this; you are aware of how Lupin is involved, Minerva," he glanced at McGonagall who nodded slowly, "and how he came to owning the most intricate testament to the collaboration between muggles and wizards in the whole world. And Severus," he looked at Snape carefully, who dragged his eyes away from Minerva as he tried to work out what Dumbledore was saying, "you are aware of Avery, a Death Eater in the service of Voldermort and what information he has unsuccessfully been able to extract from his elderly father."

"However, thanks to Raymond Lully and his abilities as a Reciprocator, you do not know the whole story."

88888888

In the silence of the early hours of the morning, in the garden of a much loved muggle scientist, trespassers trespassed on her property.

One of the trespassers held up his hands as he approached the back door, holding up his hands and, without speaking, or putting much effort into it at all, if it came to it, made Cecilia's back door implode spectacularly using sparks which energetically sprang from the palm of his hands.

Another trespasser looked at the first with contempt; they wanted to enter her home without making much noise – _he knew this_ – and here he was, her lump of a husband, causing as much noise as a clumsy oaf could.

The trespasser turned quickly from her husband and stepped forward, over the shards of double glazing that were strewn everywhere, followed by other trespassers.

"Sh!" The woman held up her hand. "Let me find her…"

Between the palms of her hands the trespasser – OK, yes, we could call her, and them, by another label, another name. One that was more potent, and laced with more horror…

As it is five o'clock in the morning, on the Thursday after Christmas, we will consider the neighbours, in the way that the owner of the house didn't an hour ago. The people who are waking up with the early morning light and wishing they hadn't drank that last glass of whisky/ate that last mince pie/picked up that last bird (delete as applicable).

…the trespasser clasped her hands together, waiting for the greenish-yellow light to form between her palms before moving them slowly apart. She placed her head into the bubble-cloud that was formed, moving her head from right to left, as if she were looking for something. Or someone.

Suddenly, the trespasser pulled back her head, slamming her palms back together again with a loud clap.

"What?" said the first trespasser, the woman's husband who had broken the back door in so loudly. She turned, a look of fury daring from her dark eyes.

"There's no-one _HERE_, godsdammit!" she roared, slamming her fist against Cecilia's hall wall. Another trespasser took a step behind the woman, glancing around in the semi-darkness before tearing into the living room.

"Search the house," the woman demanded. "She must be here, somewhere."

"He said he would meet us here," said Bellatrix Lestrange's husband, still loitering on the doorstep. "We should wait." She turned to Rabastan Lestrange, throwing him another contemptible look.

"If he was going to meet us here at quarter to five – _with it_ – he would be here!" She growled the words menacingly as the other three Death Eaters (we are going to risk that the neighbours who made unfortunate choices last night are now up) returned to them, shaking their heads.

"It?" Dolohov looked inquisitively at Bellatrix. "Don't you mean her?"

"Don't be so stupid! It's a muggle; it doesn't even matter if its male or female. They're not even worthy of that. Ahhh!" Bellatrix thrust her fist against the wall again.

"There'll be a reason, Bella. There'll have been a change of plan because of the Order…" Anton Dolohov looked at her now, attempting reason.

"…perhaps, Dolohov, however that excuse is wearing thin. He has been to the house, but he is not here now. And neither is it. Think…think…" Bellatrix Lestrange paced up and down the hall, considering the options carefully.

"We need to search," she said decisively, pushing past the other Death Eaters. "They can't have got far, and they haven't floo'd. They can't have apparated because it cannot tolerate it. The Knight Bus is off duty. So the only other ways are on foot, or by broom…"

Without waiting to be told twice, one of the Death Eaters conjured a broom, tearing off into the weak dawnlight without looking back. Another turned on his heel, dashing quickly down the entry by the side of the house, through the gate and onto the street.

"It would be a pity to waste time looking here…they could be anywhere by now," continued Dolohov, glancing at Bellatrix.

"Ah yes, Severus's little prize. Well, he has truly paid for her now, although I would question whether his agony at our master's displeasure will be worth the possession of a pathetic muggle."

The two Death Eaters who had left just now returned, shaking their heads. Bella's look grew darker as she realised they had been thwarted.

"In that case, search the house again. If we find nothing, then we report to the Dark Lord tonight and await further instructions."

"He'll have some slippery excuse why he's not here with her," prompted Rabastan Lestrange. "You know he'll get out of it – "

The Death Eater who had searched the sky for them silenced him by placing a hand on his arm.

"Listen; we've disturbed the neighbours." He looked at Bellatrix; her arms folded in frustration. "We don't want to cause a scene here; it'll stir up trouble. The Dark Lord won't thank us for it." She nodded, looking at the fifth Death Eater. He nodded too, before balling his fist round his wand, expressing as much if not more frustration than Mrs Lestrange.

Bellatrix turned and considered the house, holding her wand aloft. A purple light irradiated the house and she turned back to her companions.

"There. If anyone returns I will be alerted."

"That filthy muggle, when I get my hands on her, I'll…"

"You'll what, Lucius, talk at her? Torment her? Break her? No, you had your chance. Draco had – " Bellatrix stopped as Lucius stepped towards her, a murderous look in his eye.

"Draco did his part," he growled. "He succeeded. It was Snape who failed."

Rabastan Lestrange took a step between the two Death Eaters, breaking their deadlock stare.

"We had it, under our hand, Lucius!" Bellatrix raised her wand, aiming a bolt of yellow light towards the mirror, at the other end of the hall, smashing it to smithereens with rage. "We also have a means of communication which you managed to successfully plant on the muggle, however, I fear has not been used as much as I would like." Lucius Malfoy folded his arms, giving her a smug glare.

"…it is just a shame your second mistake did not match your first success." Bellatrix's voice started off low, like the growl of a tiger, building in ferocity and strength. "Not only could Draco not produce the book but he had no idea what it possessed. You can never comprehend the enormity of the loss to the Dark Lord…"

She cut off, and Lucius recalled the humiliating torment he endured before his contemporaries, arguing silently that he probably could.

"But Avery – " Lucius began, on a new tack.

"Avery has searched his father's very soul for the memory leaving him a frail, decrepit wreck and has discovered no information of merit. We can only assume he never knew it in the first place." She padded out to the edge of the broken doorframe and looked up towards the sky, shuddering at her thoughts.

"The Dark Lord accepts only results. He will be most displeased."

"And Snape? What will be his fate?" Lucius pressed, in an effort to deflect attention from his own faults.

"By breaking his vow, that which he swore in front of us all, in front of the Dark Lord, by blood…"

Dark fire flashed behind Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes as she savoured the revenge that would very soon be meted out.

"…he has surrendered his existence. Voldermort will take his life."

88888888


	20. Worlds Apart

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

Cecilia couldn't sleep. It was eight in the morning now and her exhausted mind would not shut down, despite every effort she had made to relax. Thoughts raced through her mind fighting an insistent urge that she should indeed give in to slumber. That she hadn't had sleep for such a long time was not good, she knew.

But Cecilia also knew the terrible feeling of hurt that she would feel when she reawoke, in the amnesiacal mist of first consciousness. If she were to get over this, she needed to concentrate fully, and without distraction on her work; she had said as much to Snape on their return journey.

And she was also listening to the cowardly thoughts at the back of her mind that were telling her of the despair she would feel again, as she had done with Tim.

Cecilia's mind recalled the drive back to outside the gates of Hogwarts as she lay refreshed after a bath and a change of clothes on her old bed in her old room in the teacher's quarters. With hindsight, it was probably not the best idea to attempt to drive six hours to Northumberland.

The early morning had not been a problem; there had been no-one on the roads and despite her less than perfect driving they hadn't got stopped. The effort went out of driving and her anger waned almost an hour and a half into their journey when on a lonely B road just outside Buxton, the car had run out of petrol.

Emotion had drained through her as the realisation that though the tank was registering half full the spluttering in the engine was telling her otherwise and she had pulled over, turning off the therapeutic music of Amy's classic 80s rock ballads which had been blaring out from the speakers.

Snape had got out of the car when they had come to a halt and had let her take the lead in diagnosing and attempting to fix the problem. It had turned out to be much more than a lack of petrol that had caused them to stop, Cecilia had discovered that oil was leaking from the underside of the car near the exhaust valve and from the sound when she tried to restart the sports car it seemed to be getting worse.

Defeated, Cecilia informed Snape of the fact as she leaned against the bonnet of the car. She half expected him to make a snide comment that she turn into as a complement in her mind, but he didn't. What he did do was lean against the car next to her and look where she was looking, through the mist at the darkened landscape that was sprinkled with houses, fields and trees.

Then he turned to her and politely informed her that if there was anything he could do in a non-magical way to assist her in their transit to Hogwarts then she should tell him, before magicking her a hot drink, which tasted like butterbeer, but a tang of oriental spices.

"It's non-alcoholic," he'd explained, sipping at the other. "It won't harm you."

Cecilia remembered the last time she had drunk butterbeer, with Snape in the "Three Broomsticks" in Hogsmeade. It had given her the undesired effects of magical yeast cells reclaiming their lost energy and leaching it parasitically from Cecilia, making her very tired and weak indeed.

Her overtaxed mind now dwelt on the most amazing part of their return, something Cecilia would never have predicted.

Cecilia had begun to pour her heart out as they stood together in the darkness next to a broken-down Alfa Romeo Spider. And as she had done so, tears dropping into her drink, Severus Snape listened to her. Not just murmured in the right places combined with silence: as the energy and fury coursed out of her he spoke words of comfort.

She'd cried and he'd consoled. She raged and he remained silent. She griped and complained and he agreed. It was as if she was with Libby; reassuring and vaguely helpful, only Snape was a six foot wizard who wouldn't know what to do with eyelash curlers in a million years.

Cecilia's hand tightened round something as she recalled what had happened next.

When she had grown silent; her emotions borne to the empty landscape, Snape had reached into his pocket and dug out something, handing it to her. To Cecilia's utter amazement it was her compact the one, she recalled, that was tipped out of her bag when she had been surprised by Draco and company, in the library, when they were menacing her about being a squib and had smashed onto the floor. She had forgotten all about it.

Now, she looked back down into her hands and it was perfect. The compact was as new as the day she had taken it from the box, when Tim had given it to her and her initials CJW on the bottom of the case and CJF on the top glinted in the candlelight of her room in mother-of-pearl on the glass cases. She remembered when Tim had given it to her, and the swell of emotion as Snape had done the same thing that morning.

As she looked at the box now, her eyes filled with unbidden tears as she recalled it once broken and lost for good on the library floor and illogically the story Snape had told her, of his personal life flashed into her mind too. How much he trusted her, and must value what she could give.

And you want me back, she questioned silently to herself. When I was too blind with flattery and naïve trust to see through Sirius Black's plan?

That had been the question she had asked Snape when she stared at the compact as they stood by her car, at half past four that morning, as she turned her compact over and over in her hands.

"Indeed we do; who else would I be able to trust to carry out this work? We need you more than ever. I need you, Cecilia. I could not trust anyone else with this." He had moved from foot to foot before coming closer to her and gazing in the same direction as she. "Besides, I believe some of my science work has gone awry; I need your non-judgmental eye for us to proceed and progress."

And then she had allowed him to whisk them through the two hundred or so miles of landscape back to Hogwarts in her broken car as it hovered a few inches from the floor before landing with an unhealthy crunch before the gates of Hogwarts and then tearing off in the direction it had come.

Cecilia hadn't wanted to ask questions of Snape, such as the nature of the work now, her status, or even where the car was going. She was just so relieved to be here, at work. Somewhere she knew.

What remained to do? How could she be of the most use?

Quickly she pulled herself out of bed; the covers still tightly bound round her and pulled open her desk drawer. Finding there was no parchment, Cecilia knelt beside one of her bags where she knew she had stowed some lined A4 paper and a biro, throwing aside clothes, shoes and a bottle of sodium metal, still in its oil. The bottle rolled under the bed and Cecilia scrabbled back for it, thanking her lucky stars it had not broken on the hard floor before placing it firmly on her desk.

Returning to the case she tossed aside her Emaness dress that she had worn to the Yule Ball and the cape in search of the paper before her eye was drawn back to the dress. No, not the dress itself, but the brooch that was pinned to its collar.

"Why?" she thought coldly, picking up the dress roughly and wrestling the brooch from the fabric. "Why did you give this to me, Remus? Why?"

Cecilia opened her desk drawer and threw in the brooch, making a mental note that she should return it by owl as soon as she could before looking round the room again.

No paper. How could she, teacher Cecilia Frobisher have no paper? Well she would have to think through her work aloud, then and try to reason it out.

At the very same moment, a wizard and a witch, locked in a gaze with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School were waiting for him to continue.

"Reciprocator. What is does Reciprocator mean?" Cecilia and Minerva McGonagall asked this question at precisely the same moment however where Cecilia was pacing round her room, wrapped in her bedclothes still, Minerva sat bolt upright on the purple settee in Dumbledore's study.

"Let me start at the beginning." Dumbledore looked between Minerva and Severus Snape. "Cecilia Frobisher discovered information regarding a wizard whom we know, Raymond Lully. He is related to the Black family through Alphard Black, a staunch believer in the equality of muggles to wizards a belief which was once held by Joseph Black." At the name, Snape flinched and McGonagall held onto her spectacles.

"Joseph Black?" asked Minerva, clearly shocked. "Equality of muggles?"

"Yes," said Snape quietly, glancing at her. Dumbledore waited until they were quiet again before recommencing.

"Lully was a member of an organisation set up by his ancestor, Joseph Black with the aim of sharing of information between muggles and wizards, to build national and international relations between us. Members of the organisation, Reciprocators, worked alongside muggles and whilst collecting information to further or understanding of the world as the march of science continued, we in turn assisted with the transit of information, manufacture of materials and progress of technology. In addition, they recruited select muggles who would accept them as collaborators into their work." He paused, as if inviting questions from either Professor.

"Hm," coughed Minerva. "They actually existed? Reciprocators? I was under the impression they were a fabrication, a mere fable to encourage solidarity between wizarding families."

"They were," replied Dumbledore, "and what else for a fable than something rooted in truth? Their work did not go down well with many pure blood families of course, although many saw them as a boon. Do not forget that the Reciprocator organisation was founded over two hundred years ago and attitudes were different from the distillate ones of Voldermort and his followers."

"…Joseph Black…" murmured Cecilia, stubbing her toe absently on the end of her bed.

"Joseph Black," continued Dumbledore to McGonagall and Snape, "was himself a Reciprocator and also set up the many relationships of Reciprocators with select muggles. He chose them personally, allowing for the best match of ability and benefit to both muggle and wizard communities. His own Reciprocation was with the engineer James Watt and from Black's own original ideas Watt was able to develop the ideas of the steam engine. Such associations were considered a success in the wizard world; long had we ignored muggles, and they forgot us. Now, at last, it seemed that there was a way forward for us to live harmoniously." Dumbledore shifted in his armchair now, waiting for the information to sink into their minds. It was much to handle, he supposed.

"However when Watt had a working steam engine; power for muggles, he ignored Black claiming the discovery of the source of power for the muggle world. Many of his contemporaries took up the engines and he was of such significant influence that Joseph Black was denied the information. Furious, Black tried to force the matter through the Wizengamot and when that failed, called to disband the Reciprocators in 1798."

"Such an influential wizard as Black demanding this action caused a divide across the organisation and many practicing Reciprocators, who had spent many long years in collaboration with muggles refused to give up the practice. This became so much of a problem for the Ministry that they declared Reciprocators illegal. This has two effects…" Dumbledore looked between McGonagall and Snape again, both sitting like statues, "…in delaying technological progress in the muggle world and promoting anything carried out by muggles as un-natural practices to prevent more recruits."

"Many Reciprocators still remained, and continued to work with muggles in the field of science; however they worked in utmost secrecy right up until the 1950s." He looked at the wizard and witch before him again who were frozen before him like icicles, hanging on every word.

"They worked successfully for many years, through many muggle scientific developments and met secretly to plan where they would next be deployed and whom they could recruit to continue the work. In addition, they wrote the science stories into a book in order to preserve them in a format understandable to wizards."

"…Mysterious Mythology…" pondered Cecilia, pacing before the fireplace now…

"Remus's book," breathed Minerva. "That's the book they wrote," she said, looking aghast. "B…but that's been in existence for thousands of years; a children's book of stories!"

"It was adapted and reissued," replied Dumbledore. "No-one who was looking for information on the Reciprocators and their discoveries would consider a child's book. And what better way to allow our world to be familiar to muggle science than to make them available to children? Marvellous," he added, a twinkle of admiration in his eye.

"It was updated periodically, throughout the discoveries of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, as Reciprocators contributed the work of their muggle collaborators; of those muggle scientists that Cecilia Frobisher discovered when she returned to her world to collect the information from the hair. Contributions which were detailed and far-reaching, shining a light on wizards as well as muggles, right up until Raymond Lully."

Dumbledore rose from his chair, and extending his arm, he flicked his wand towards the shelf to the right of ex-Headmaster Dippet and a book extracted itself from between two others and steadily floated across Dumbledore's study, coming to rest, still closed, in Minerva's lap.

"Open it," he said. "Tell me what you see."

Minerva opened the front cover of the book and looked at the title page. Then she flicked onto the first page and the next, finally flicking through the pages quicker and quicker until she reached the back cover.

"It's Remus Lupin's book," she said, looking back at Dumbledore. "It's Mysterious Mythology."

"No." Minerva jerked her head back and looked at Snape, who had spoken the word firmly and clearly. She handed it to him.

"See for yourself, Severus," she replied, dismissively. "But I thought Cecilia had the book in her possession?" Minerva looked at Dumbledore for qualification.

"She does," growled Snape, opening the book to the first page. "This is not his copy."

"It – " she stopped, as Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Please continue, Severus. Why is this not Remus Lupin's copy?" He looked expectantly at Snape, as did McGonagall.

"The border on the title page," he began, pointing at the fleur-de-lys border that surrounded it. "In Lupin's copy it reads "Energy-Light-Magic" as Mrs Frobisher described. Which is the exact relationship that translates energy to magic, and vice-versa. The relationship that makes magic work," he added. He glanced at Dumbledore and at McGonagall, whose mouth was open in an "o" of surprise.

"And the story of the little boy who had discovered miniscule strings hidden in small pockets inside his body that controlled how big he grew is also missing. It was the fifth story in the book." Snape flicked it over to where it would have been, if this copy of "Mysterious Mythology" had been Remus Lupin's.

"Yes," nodded Dumbledore. "It is indeed not the one given to Cecilia Frobisher by Remus Lupin. It is in fact the edition that directly preceded it; updated by the last Reciprocator in existence prior to Lully and sadly, not put into circulation."

"But why?" asked Minerva suddenly. "If this information existed, why not make it available directly to wizards?"

"Reciprocators are still technically illegal," replied Dumbledore, "although their existence is taken as more of a joke by members of the Ministry, these days."

"…Raymond Lully…" declared Cecilia, her mind wandering to what she knew of him…

"And being a Reciprocator like Lully, in the early twentieth century in the muggle world was no laughing matter. However those that still existed were still completely dedicated to their work. However anti-muggle prejudice began to rise in the decades preceding the Goblin Riots and their existence became even more difficult. So did recruitment of further Reciprocators, to assist with the exchange of information. This is when, following the highly successful recruitment of Pompops Pomfrey to deal with medical advances, Lully became desperate to recruit another, overlooking a few basic checks in the family department."

"A fatal mistake," commented Snape.

"Indeed," replied Dumbledore. "Which is where the Death Eater Avery comes in." Snape jerked his head quickly to Dumbledore.

"…Oswald T…." Cecilia racked her brains to remember where she had seen the name before.

"Lully knew dark forces were after him and believed his life was in danger as early as 1930s. Pomfrey was excellent in his field, however he was not easily dissuaded from his specialism, so Lully decided he needed to recruit another Reciprocator, to replace him or at least carry on with his work. He made an association with a wizard, Oswald T. Avery."

"Oswald T. Avery…" whispered McGonagall in horror. "The man who engineered the Goblin Riots? Where Raymond Lully was assassinated?"

"The very same." It was not Dumbledore who replied now, it was Snape. The two professors exchanged silent thoughts before looking at Dumbledore.

"Oswald T. Avery, a pure-blood wizard with an intolerable hatred for muggles had information passed to him accidentally at the Ministry of Magic that Pompops Pomfrey was a Reciprocator from letters he had written. These are, incidentally, the notes that Poppy gave to Cecilia to study in the first few weeks of her research. Avery followed Pomfrey to St. Mungo's and was intrigued to discover he had been set to work by none other than Raymond Lully whom Avery had suspected of Reciprocator recruitment in the past."

"He claimed to have been sent by Pomfrey as a recruit and Lully recruited him on the spot, setting him to work with a scientist who had just begun to study in detail human cells. Avery fed information back to Lully but, unbeknownst to Raymond, he was an ally of Tom Riddle and an advocate of the young wizard's beliefs." Dumbledore watched a shadow pass briefly, as a cloud, over Snape's face.

"Over the years, Avery fed Lully information from the scientist to him, keeping him happy and waiting for his chance to shine with Riddle though eventually, Lully became suspicious of Oswald Avery and decided that he needed to preserve the information in the next generation of "Mysterious Mythology" books."

"He contacted the son of the last publisher, a pro-muggle wizard who took the book and made one preliminary copy, presenting it to Lully a month before the Goblin Riots. Lully was impressed, and agreed to come back shortly in order for more copies to be commissioned containing the additions that you described, Severus, to be added to it."

"…Remus Lupin!" exclaimed Cecilia, kicking her ball dress angrily across the floor before staring angrily at her desk drawer…

"Lupin's copy. So how much does he know? How did it end up in his possession?" Snape sat stiffer on the settee.

"Remus is not aware of this information. His father was the publisher who had made just that one single copy and when Lully did not return, began to read the stories to his son."

"So you are saying that, hidden amongst the fairy stories in Remus Lupin's copy of "Mysterious Mythology" Raymond Lully hid the secrets of the Reciprocators in amongst the fairy stories in the book?" McGonagall spoke her confused thoughts aloud, trying to keep up and Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"This came just in time for only six months later he was killed…assassinated…in the Goblin Riots. When he did not return Remus's father was contacted by the last remaining Reciprocator, who was unable to interpret the work before he too succumbed to Voldermort's wrath. John Lupin swore that he would keep the book safe and secret when he learned of his death, and began to read the stories to a very small Remus."

"With the ever-increasing polarity between our two communities and with the increase of scientific advance the information was lost to us and memories of muggle-wizard unity just specks in the memories of older wizards."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly as he walked over to Fawkes as he got to his feet and approached the phoenix. He tickled the bird's head and held out his wand again, flicking it towards the purple chair that he had been sitting on, making it disappear.

"We considered science and indeed muggles without our interests; we were arrogant. We chose to believe it, and them, beneath us and as a result we nearly lost the information forever."

"But how is it that you know this, Albus? John Lupin has been dead for ten years…" Minerva was on her feet now, her mind aching with the concentrated information that her mind was trying to process.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and an image of Remus Lupin, boarding the Hogwarts Express as an eleven-year-old came into focus.

"I recognised it the first moment I saw it. Remus Lupin's story book that he was so reluctant to be parted with when he came to Hogwarts. His father was frantic, and Owled me to say it was vital the book was returned home. When I ascertained it was Lully's copy, I knew that there was hope in our battle against Voldermort. But to my horror it was like another language to me; I was unable to fathom and interpret the work."

"But Lully was a relative of Black!" Snape too was on his feet, ignoring the still-moving image of Lupin on the Hogwarts Express, being bullied by his eleven-year-old self.

"It is indeed ironic that historically pureblood families considered it valuable to be associated with muggles, intellectually and yet their descendants waged war against them in their anscestors' name."

"But Lupin," pressed Minerva. "I believed the reason for John Lupin's urgency was because of –" she stopped suddenly, glancing at Snape.

"Severus has the right to know, Minerva. I am imparting this information for the pursuit of Harry's potion, as you are both aware." Snape nodded slightly at Dumbledore. Minerva's look of urgency melted away, and she nodded too.

"Information made apparent to me during the trial of Avery junior allowed me to ascertain that it was the unique nature of this volume of "Mysterious Mythology" that put Remus Lupin in such danger at such an early age; something for which his father never forgave himself." Dumbledore looked

"Werewolves were under Voldermort's control and on one fateful summer evening, using the information provided by Oswald T. Avery Fenrir Greyback entered Remus's bedroom. Unable to locate the book, he attacked Remus Lupin, causing the affliction of which we are all aware."

A low growl came from the direction of Snape; he looked down, his body shaking with apparent fury.

"An affliction which has caused him to part company with Mrs Frobisher," Dumbledore translated for McGonagall's benefit. "Which brings me to our muggle recruit - "

"…and why am I back here?" Cecilia sighed dejectedly before making her way back to bed. All of those glimpses of information had turned out to be dead ends; tantalising her with the promise of progress and at the same time leaving her frustrated and bereft of time for other work…

" – Mrs Cecilia Jane Frobisher. During the last war, I was unable to engage a muggle to investigate the latest and most exciting lead because we were unprepared for the immensity and ferocity of the attacks from Voldermort."

"However I never gave up hope that the interpretation of "Mysterious Mythology" would be the key to Voldermort's downfall and in the years following his demise I have engaged muggles, gaining glimpses into the unparalleled work of the Reciprocators, with mixed results." He looked at Minerva, who nodded in realisation as pieces of past Order work suddenly took on a new meaning.

"It soon became apparent that in order for a breakthrough to be achieved in understanding why Voldermort failed on the night he failed to destroy the three-month-old Harry Potter we needed someone to work alongside us, or to be precise, alongside you, Severus." Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement of Snape's role in the work.

…I'll let Severus take the lead, Cecilia thought, closing her eyes…I won't get involved with these dead ends…be professional…concentrate on what's necessary. As she repeated her resolve like a mantra in her mind, she began to submit to the anaesthesia of sleep…

Minerva McGonagall nodded slowly, considering the vast amount of information that Albus Dumbledore had chosen to disclose to them both. It explained so many, many things.

"I chose Mrs Frobisher for many reasons, not least her dedication to her work, her scientific knowledge and understanding, communication skills with teenagers and lack of ties in the muggle community." Dumbledore turned and looked at both Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape now, folding his arms and speaking slowly.

"Until last July, before the Goblin Riots Raymond Lully was the last Reciprocator to engage a muggle in collaboration. By employing Cecilia Frobisher last July to work against the evil that threatens us again that honour is now afforded to me."

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Cecilia used the time before the students returned to Hogwarts as an opportunity to re-engage with the priorities of her work. The days were cold; far colder than those at home, in the hospitable Midlands, and bitter, biting winds tore through the hard granite land, rattling the iron fittings at the windows of the potions classroom and tore through the courtyard and open corridors outside.

It had been almost four days since she had arrived back at Hogwarts after her visit home and her subsequent resumption of the potions work. Snape had indeed needed help with the work as he'd confessed; not only had he misinterpreted some of the electromagnetic spectrum, which was the cause of the spells registering at a far higher frequency he had also made an assumption about the mitotic reproduction of cells and the calculation for the quantity of DNA in eight species of animals, which had been out by three orders of magnitude.

Sitting in the potions dungeon, Cecilia reflected on Snape's unassuming nature towards her following his request for her to return. It was as if their professional relationship remained intact, and returned to how it had been before her return home.

She flipped over another page of her last notebook; the one containing information and thoughts she had written almost a month ago, before she had made the Universal connection. How archaic her thoughts appeared now, on the page before her. How prosaic some of the paths she had taken, well trodden by others before her and then inspirational when she finally had all the pieces in place.

As the sound of liquid coming to the boil penetrated her thoughts, Cecilia jumped off one of the desks and retrieved the cauldron of steaming water that she needed to use for an experiment, burning her hands as the searing heat from the metal handle penetrated the double-wrapped tea towel that served as a glove.

Cecilia didn't care though; here she was, back where she needed to be; back where it was right for her. No more of wasting her time on that Reciprocator and Raymond Lully business now and Cecilia had been much relieved when Snape had agreed wholeheartedly that the main priority now was to get Harry's potion correct as it reinforced her own decision.

The plan was simple. Using the right ingredients which complemented Harry's genetic energy frequency he could attack and disarm Voldermort and allow the Aurors to capture him.

Well, that was the idea anyway; what she and Snape were using as a working theory to build upon their hypothesis. He had been far more attentive than before Christmas which, Cecilia supposed, had been in part to do with the need to produce the potions for Harry now.

The other part Cecilia didn't wish to contemplate; not since her trust had been shattered by Remus Lupin earlier that week, and even earlier by Sirius Black. No regrets, she told herself firmly as she poured some of the hot water carefully into three ceramic pots, even if you do still feel...

No. No regrets.

Well, one. Not getting hold of the DNA sample of Lily Potter that Remus had promised. That would have cut down the research time probably to a few days whereas the only process she and Snape could carry out was to systematically go through all of the potion ingredients and classify them according to toxicity, stability, energy frequency and efficacy.

The right ingredients were sure to be found, she told herself, but the real work would come to determine which they were exactly.

She leaned over and added the crushed roots of the arachnid skin to the first pot, shortly followed by asphodel root to the second and to the third great auk feathers. Sighing, Cecilia considered that by analysing the every ingredient in the potions storeroom for these four properties, their work would probably take nearly three months.

The pots bubbled and crackled as she stirred them, before taking a sample of each over to the microscope that she had reassembled in the potions laboratory. It would have to be moved of course, when the students returned on Saturday. On the bright side, Cecilia mused as she angled the light from the microscope onto the sample, she might have got as far as the B shelf by then.

Any good psychologist would describe Cecilia Frobisher's actions as being avoidance tactics which were being carried out in her precise and detailed manner in order to prevent her mind from succumbing to sadness and depression. Any good psychologist would encourage her to carry on with this for it would do her good and allow her to deal with it.

Any good psychologist would also be phoning the nearest mental hospital for a hasty referral if Cecilia Frobisher were to divulge that she had spent the last six months of her life working scientifically in a world full of wizards and magic, adding in red pen at the bottom, "_long-term_" and "_indefinite_ _duration_".

For who could say whether continuing the work would be helpful to her, in the end? Who could say that perhaps she shouldn't have stayed at home and forgotten about all of this; crying on her best friend's shoulder then picking herself back up and applying for a desk job?

But it felt right to Cecilia, as right as the moment she had stepped through the door of Twelve Grimmauld Place on the fifteenth of July. Amongst all the madness there had a flicker of reality which she had proven scientifically. This wasn't just a game, something she could step away from. Which is the reason that she was still there, working within the madness, and ignoring the pain.

At least, that was what the main part of her mind was telling her. Another part, the stubborn part, was stamping its feet telling the world that it was _her _discovery and she wasn't about to let some ignorant wizard take it and use it before discarding it once it had served its purpose. Which whatever Snape said, and Dumbledore come to that, was likely to happen because the link went against most teachings, beliefs and attitudes of wizards, Sirius Black personifying this.

Light bounced onto the asphodel root solution, allowing only the shorter wavelengths to be absorbed. Cecilia carefully peered through the lens before noting the range in her notebook (her _new_ notebook) following the pages on which she had rewritten everything she could remember about the Universal Link, the steps they had taken and the evidence they had found to get there.

Cecilia couldn't blame Sirius. Hate him, yes. But he had been acting on his feelings; standing up in a weird way for what he believed to be right for his godson, whatever those closest to him thought and in whatever means were most effective, however cruel. It was for wizards like Sirius that she was doing this for because there was a chance they could be saved and be shown the error of their ways.

Spilling a bit of the arachnid skin solution, she did the same for that sample too; this time having to reposition the mirror that was reflecting the light at too sharp an angle, and finally for the auk feather. Now for the tricky bit: energy intensity.

Her few days back at Hogwarts had been exceedingly quiet compared to the days back in the muggle world. She might even have preferred to stay at home, using the Internet, books and possibly another trip to see Nick at her old work, even if Remus had left. It may have speeded up the process too. But Snape had been insistent, and so very humble thought Cecilia, so it was probably for the best.

Remus.

As Cecilia reboiled the cauldron over the embers of the fire, poking the ashes and adding a few more logs, she allowed her mind to consider Remus Lupin and feelings of shame and humiliation caused her to grow pale.

How could she get it so wrong? How cheap and used had it made her feel? Especially after she had let him come with her back to her home; let him kiss her…let him sleep with her? There was a word for a woman like her, a not very nice word.

She had known him for as long as she had known any of the wizards and while it was in Sirius's nature to be spiteful and cruel, it was out of character for the Remus she had previously known. Surely there was something else he could have done if he didn't want to be with her again, rather than leaving her that poor excuse for a note. But then, feeling sorry for herself as if she were the only person to be dumped in the world wasn't going to do her any good either.

Despite trying to block out such thoughts the last few nights alone in bed Cecilia's undefended mind had sprung on her the job of analysing Remus's actions coldly, objectively and unemotionally.

But no matter which way she put it, there was no justification she could think of as to why he would knowingly cause her so much harm. He must agree with his friend, and have gone back to his girlfriend, or whatever Tonks had been to him. He must have changed his mind having been backed into a corner.

Whatever the situation was a raw stinging pain was not far from her emotions and Cecilia had decided that the best way to deal with it was to forget these people and their lives, so apart from her own world that they were, and get on with the work she had agreed to do. She had been through this before, the last time Sirius Black tried to kill her and this time Cecilia was determined to learn from her mistake.

Agreed with Snape to do, she corrected herself as she swilled out the ceramic bowls. She had yet to speak directly to Dumbledore and considering it was six days until the students returned to Hogwarts, she had no idea as to what she would be doing; even whether he still required her to continue with her old cover as the muggle studies teacher.

Continuing for the next three ingredients in the quiet of the potions laboratory, Cecilia was startled to hear strange noises coming from outside the classroom. Tentatively and prepared (ethanoic acid was a good weapon against mischievous Peeves for it caused temporary immobility), she opened the wooden oak door.

A dark green-grey blur outlined in red and yellow dashed past her, holding what looked like a silver tray.

"Lady did not come for dinner in the Great Hall." The blur that had whisked past her turned out to be Dobby, who thrust the tray and its contents, a steaming bowl of stew and two slices of handcut bread, into Cecilia's hands.

"Thank you, Dobby," said Cecilia, almost dropping the tray as she balanced it in her hands with the bottle of poltergeist deterrent and putting it down on the nearest table. "And how are you?"

"Better now Dobby knows Lady is safe. Now Dobby knows Lady is not – " he stopped, whimpering and holding onto his bobble hat, wringing it forcefully. "Dead!"

Cecilia looked kindly at the house elf, who had sought her out the day she had returned to Hogwarts and had been a non-stop feature in the potions classroom, as well as the Great Hall at mealtimes and her room in the mornings.

"No," said Cecilia patiently. "I'm not dead. And it's thanks to you, Dobby. You warned me about what a blood-deed was." She smiled and Dobby hopped up and down from one foot to another, looking frantic.

"Winky wondered whether Lady would like to come to the kitchen to celebrate." Dobby gestured to the purple party hat and rainbow striped horn that lay next to the food. Cecilia frowned.

"Celebrate? What?"

"The new year," squeaked Dobby. "It is the one time permitted to all house elves for celebration. It is a time that all elves can be united." Cecilia nodded, looking hungrily at the food as the clock in the high school tower informed them that it was eleven o'clock.

"Why, of course," said Cecilia, sitting down at the desk. "That would be a pleasure, Dobby. Let me eat this lovely supper you've made me and put away these things, then I'll be down."

Spooning up some of the soup and reorienting her mind to the impending New Year, she watched as Dobby turned a dance on the spot before looking at her experiments. Before Cecilia could get to her feet or shout at Dobby to leave her things, he'd clicked his fingers and her equipment cleaned and tidied itself away.

Damn, thought Cecilia, smiling gratefully at Dobby who turned with a look of pleasure on his face. The last time the house elf had been helpful, her wavelength readings had increased by several hundred nanometres, suggesting that the natural frequency of energy in the potion ingredients had been disrupted by the spell he had performed.

"Thank you," said Cecilia, gratefully. "Let me finish this, and I'll be down to the kitchen, OK?"

"Yes," he replied, hopping and skipping towards the door. "Anything Lady says. Winky and Bingo will be excited!" he added, opening it and bounding into the corridor.

Putting down her spoon and getting to her feet Cecilia walked over to her equipment and sighed. The cauldron was spotless, sparkling like a new pin. The microscope was packed away with its cover on; the cover slides put away neatly and tidily in the box and the ingredients from the potion store cupboard back in the jars.

Oh well, thought Cecilia as she glanced back at her supper. She hadn't had any food since breakfast and now the beautiful aroma of the stew invaded her nostrils, beguiling her to sit and eat. Perhaps should forget about the work for tonight and see the elves. Apart from Dobby she had not seen any other elves in the castle and besides, it would help her focus.

Cecilia closed the potions classroom door behind her and began to make her way towards the main part of the castle. There was so much work that needed to be done, she thought as the cold December wind bit at her cheeks, I only hope that we are on the right lines.

She walked through the courtyard of Hogwarts and in through the huge imposing doors that opened on their own as she approached them. Dumbledore had not spoken to her since Christmas Day, in her gas fire at home, but she had decided that if he wanted her to do anything other than the science work of the potion he would have contacted her.

Muffled noise could be heard now as Cecilia approached the top of the first flight of stairs. To her right led the stairs to the kitchens and as she approached the sounds of merriment permeated the silent corridors.

But there were a few things that still perturbed her, however. Snape had been in agreement about Lily's DNA sample that afternoon in theory, but had made it clear the potion was their main priority. And while Cecilia had already rationalised to herself that this was indeed the best way to get the results they needed in the shortest time possible, it was always slightly disconcerting when Snape was so definite about a course of action.

His position, once declared, always seemed so immovable that Cecilia's instinct was to challenge it and following their conversation she had spent most of the rest of the day wondering idly whether his inaction was because Snape had been in love with Lily too.

Cecilia descended the stairs to where the house elves were clearly enjoying their party, stepping slowly in the half-light, their high squeaky voices chirruping to one another.

And another thing; was she to continue with her teaching? The students were to return on Saturday, Cecilia knew. There were barely any teachers at school; Snape of course, Professor Flitwick who was keeping himself to himself, and Binns. She had not even seen Hagrid, who was usually milling around outside the castle walls and whom she used to see from time to time from the potions classroom window. Was she expected to keep her cover now, as she had done for the autumn term, carrying on the research with Snape?

Cecilia shelved the thoughts at the back of her mind and took the last step into the low-ceilinged kitchen, trying not to bang her head and was immediately inundated with elves. Surrendering to their attentions, Cecilia smiled warmly and joined their party.

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The following morning and Cecilia wondered whether she should have continued with her research rather than attend the party for she felt so lacking in energy it was if she had drunk a dozen alcohol-laden butterbeers the night before.

The party itself had been very interesting; the elves had sung strange songs which they all knew by heart, and danced around empty kitchen as the furniture had been moved away. At midnight, they had formed a circle, with one elf in the centre, who sang a song about wishing for more elves to be freed from the servitude of wizards that year and Cecilia had asked Dobby why, for she had seen many an elf ignore the clothes Hermione had spent a lot of her time knitting the previous term.

"We wish it, for it is tradition," Dobby had replied simply, his face falling to solemnity.

Stumbling out of bed and over the contents of her bags, Cecilia made her way to the bathroom and her heart sank as she realised that Dobby had not been there that morning. The bath was devoid of water for the taps only dispensed water by magic, which meant Cecilia would have to wash over the sink, not the most pleasant of ablution techniques.

"You look dreadful," her reflection told her as Cecilia gazed into the mirror. "A good night's sleep does wonders for the complexion."

"Does it," muttered Cecilia dolefully, considering the mess on the other side of the door. "And you would know, you stop-out you?"

An hour later and Cecilia had cleansed her room of anything that was un-necessary for the pursuit of the potion research. Ruthlessly she sorted out every item into three piles, one to use, one to keep and one to throw out.

First on the "out" pile went her Emaness dress and robe, which she had scooped up on the night of her return, as did some of her earlier notebooks of random musings about wizards, mere junk now. From her drawer came various letters, one Sirius had sent her about a floo liaison and another from Tonks; the "get-well-soon" card from the children when she was recuperating at Grimmauld Place; her letter of employment that she had received in the post (looking at it now it seemed obvious to her it had been posted by someone with no idea of how the muggle postal system worked) and the comic that the Weasley twins had given to her on her birthday.

In addition were several items that she had brought from home; a small photo album of her and Tim and her years old degree-level notes.

The "keep/use" pile contained her notebooks and DNA traces from her visit to Nick; the sodium metal that she would need to react with a silver nitrate to resilver the microscope mirror in due course and other small bottles of chemical reagents; some muggle money as well as wizard gold; sensible clothing and her original black dress robe.

Cecilia looked at the "to ditch" pile as she opened the last drawer of her desk, wondering what was missing, before scrutinising the contents of the drawer and trying to fight the shiver that crept over her with cynicism as she involuntarily recalled the time just over a week ago when the dress had been thrown without care onto her own bedroom floor by a priapic Remus Lupin.

"Mysterious Mythology": that was what was missing. It usually resided in the bottom right-hand drawer of her desk; its beautiful green cover twinkling like an emerald when she'd opened it. Freya had it now and she never needed to worry about having to give it back again.

Within the drawer were a few pieces of parchment and A4 lined paper as well as some quills and biros that Cecilia had remembered to bring with her. As she pulled the drawer open further small sparks reflected off the wood and Cecilia realised it was stuck so she pushed her hand towards the back.

Her hand met with something papery which Cecilia pulled sharply and with some effort. This released the drawer with a crunch. She looked at the contents of her hand before opening the Slytherin notebook that Snape had given to her all those months ago in order to contact him.

As she went to throw it into the "begone" pile, Cecilia stopped, opening the book up again and she recalled the time she had written the one and only communication to Snape using it, telling him about her genetics hypothesis, with the words disappearing shortly after writing them.

And she was glad she had used it, Cecilia contemplated scornfully or else Snape would not have returned to Grimmauld Place to discuss their early work and Sirius Black would have succeeded in killing her with the Veritaserum.

All done, she thought with a smile a few minutes later, gathering up the "soon to be burned on a big fire in the potions classroom" pile and shoving it onto a cardboard box. Then she went over to the fireplace and re-manoeuvred the room's wardrobe so it blocked it completely. There was no way that anyone would be contacting her in that fireplace again.

Cecilia tidied up the rest of her belongings, opening her desk drawers again and stowing them away when her eye caught something she had missed in her purge.

A circular brooch beset with many different coloured stones.

Placing it on the desk and with a shaking hand, she pulled out a parchment and quill. Writing quickly, she scribbled a message upon it, before wrapping another piece of parchment around the brooch and tying them both together with string. Cecilia picked up the quill again and held it above the smooth side of the package.

"Mr R. J. Lupin," she wrote, trying to keep her hand steady, "Twelve Grimmauld Place, London." Then she threw the quill into the open drawer like a dart and pocketed the package in her jeans.

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A walk to the Owlery was just what Cecilia needed on the first day of the New Year when she felt so rough. It wasn't as if she had knowingly consumed anything that would have affected her so stress was the most likely explanation.

It was late morning now and the dew-drenched grass reflected the sunlight as the wind rippled the blades over the surface of the landscape causing the environment to appear peaceful and undisturbed. A good clear-out; that was how her mother would describe what Cecilia had just done; something to lift the spirits and for the first time in ages she was inclined to agree with Jane Wells.

Cecilia made her way carefully up the Owlery steps, taking care on the ice that still remained in the shadows and held onto the stone rail that was designed to prevent her from falling if she were to lose her footing…

…and she was glad she did for, as she rounded the entrance at the top of the tower she ran slap-bang into –

"Hagrid!"

Bouncing off his middle, Cecilia landed awkwardly between the top and second step, the parcel in her hand skimming across the Owlery floor.

"Ah-ow!" she gasped, picking herself up slowly…quickly. Hagrid pulled her up by her waist and planting her down firmly on her feet.

"Mrs Frobisher! Cecilia! I di'n't see yeh there!" Hagrid, his warm friendly face lined with concern now as Cecilia winced, trying to smile.

"Hagrid!" she gasped, forcing the smile further before feeling the corners of her mouth droop.

"Are yeh all right?" The giant wizard spoke with concern and Cecilia looked down, as if for her dropped package.

"I think it went over there," Hagrid continued, striding towards the back of the top Owlery step. "Yeah, here ye' are. Oh," he said in a tone of surprise. "Fer Remus Lupin, eh?"

"E…excuse me," said Cecilia, taking the package from Hagrid's outstretched hand. "Thank…you…" she sniffed, feeling a flood of tears being dammed behind her eyes, held by ever-waning willpower.

She went to take a step inside the Owlery before feeling Hagrid's hand on her shoulder. At the touch, Cecilia could not hold them any longer and she stood in the doorway of the Owlery, crying like a five-year-old.

"There, there," comforted Hagrid, pulling her to his leg and stroking the top of her head vaguely. "Yer must be ver' upset, I know, I know," he soothed. "And I think 'e's the worst bugger in the world fer – "

"No," sniffed Cecilia. "It's neither of _them_." She stepped back from Hagrid, releasing his questionably clean trousers. Hagrid looked at her with an expression to match his quietening voice. "I just don't know if I'm strong enough to carry on, Hagrid! I'm doing what I think, but Dumbledore hasn't mentioned anything to me. I don't know if what I'm doing is right!"

"Well, if you don't, I don't know who does," chuckled Hagrid kindly. "I mean, you sat with me and solved that puzzle right enough, about how wizards and muggles are related with Jenny-eticks. And it made sense ter me, and that's sayin' summat. _And _there's never been a muggle at Hogwarts before; that's how much Dumbledore trusts ye'." Cecilia looked up at the giant.

Whenever she had come in contact with him, she had either cried, spoke down to or angrily at him. Cecilia knew he was a member of the Order, though not always present at the meetings, yet her reaction to him was always extreme. Why couldn't she speak to him like other wizards?

And that was it, wasn't it? He wasn't like other wizards. Hagrid had told her the story of how his pet spider, Aragog had been suspected of the murder of a muggle-born student fifty years ago and how, during that time he had been forbidden to use magic.

He had described how he had to learn to carry out tasks "the muggle way" and how he would even do things that way now if he wasn't concentrating. It was, Cecilia realised, because he was the most non-magical wizard she'd met.

"Look," said Cecilia, wiping her eyes. "I…I'm worrying about the future. I'm worrying about things that I cannot control. I'm worrying about my own decisions, things that I cannot change and if my choices will be affected." She smiled at Hagrid, whose jolly cheerfulness was neutralising her asinine bitterness.

"Why don't yer come and 'ave a cup o' tea, once yer sent that on its way?" Cecilia nodded and hurried across the Owlery, waking up an extremely sleepy owl with a start and encouraging it on its way with the package firmly in its beak.

"My finest lot," said Hagrid, half an hour later. Cecilia sat forward (well further forward as she was sitting on Fang's chair again) examining the contents of the bowl that Hagrid was excitedly proffering towards her. "The best creature fer hexperimenting, these," he added knowledgeably.

"Flobberworms," stated Cecilia, not wanting to consider the grounds on which Hagrid was basing his conclusions.

"The least magical creatures, these. But int'restin'." He poked at one of them with his finger.

"Breed like rabbits, do flobberworms. Last year I 'ad to let most of 'em go. Dumbledore weren't arf fuming." Hagrid shook his head in apprehension. "They got into the Black Lake and the Merpeople began protestin'; ate all the magical effluent from Hogwarts, which damn' near starved 'em. Sent a delegate to see Dumbledore; drippin' all over the Castle 'e were…" his voice trailed off as Hagrid recalled his misdemeanour.

"So, I can have some of these?" asked Cecilia, hopefully. If they were barely magical then, with any luck any energy they might possess would not shield energy of the ingredient under scrutiny, and at the same time give a measure of toxicity.

"Oh, by all means Mrs Frobisher, by all means. Save me gettin' into trouble again this year. There," he added, holding a flobberworm between huge, sausage-like digits towards Cecilia and she uncurled a palm, watching it writhe and wriggle from the warmth of her hand.

"Now, yer next concern is young Mr Potter," said Hagrid, turning from the flobberworms and taking now-boiled kettle from the huge hook over the fireplace. Cecilia nodded, ignoring the question of how he would know this.

"Thought as much, 'cos 'e's who you got'ta make the potion for, 'aint 'e? And 'e's well loved by… well; he's well loved." Hagrid filled up two not particularly clean enamel mugs.

"Black," said Cecilia firmly, waving her other hand towards the milk of an interesting shade of white. Hagrid jerked his head towards Cecilia before looking down at her mug as he realised she was talking about the tea and added a couple of big splashes to his own. Handing her the cup, Cecilia nodded gratefully and recalled her last research lesson with Harry.

She remembered his more than disconcerted expression when she'd told him that Snape would be taking over, but considering that he had spent the last fortnight with his godfather Cecilia didn't suppose he would be very happy at the news she was back nor at the prospect of them working together again.

"No," said Cecilia, her confidence growing as the details of her plan locked into place suddenly. "But it's got to be done and he'll just have to accept it."

"That's the Cecilia Frobisher we know!" declared Hagrid proudly, grinning at the flobberwoms. "Listen to your new mummy," he added, addressing the creatures and Cecilia laughed aloud for the first time in almost a week as she replaced the one in her hand back into the box.

That afternoon Cecilia and her new family took their first step into a brave new world. Their magical frequency was within an appropriate range and the corresponding amplitude turned out to be extremely low. With cautious optimism, Cecilia began to boil some water over the large fire fuelled by her soon-to-be ex possessions. She added a vial of concentrated buttercup syrup when the water was bubbling and stirred the solution a few times.

"And so, my little ones, you'll be assisting me with Harry's potion," she cooed affectionately to her three dozen test subjects which wriggled in Hagrid's stone pot.

Once the solution had cooled, Cecilia spooned out a drop onto two evaporating dishes, dropping three worms onto each and watched them intently.

A few minutes later, shaking her head and smiling wryly at her new charges Cecilia Frobisher carefully noted the effects of buttercup syrup on flobberworms to be, "coughing and sputtering after two to two and a half minutes exposure" before recording their energy level and corresponding wavelength.

Casting a woeful glance at the main nursery of worms before considering the ingredient, Cecilia informed her adopted offspring that she didn't fancy their chances with the next batch either.

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Words, as cold as nitrogen-ice arrows pierced the frozen air as Lord Voldermort spoke his will to his loyal followers. Each Death Eater stood rigid and still on his command; an unnatural pose which some were finding more than a little uncomfortable to maintain. But not enough as to disobey their master; he had been known have ordered Death Eaters to be destroyed for less than that.

The words were stilted, as if their illustrious leader were in pain. It was possible, thought some. His return in the summer was inspired, however the physiological effects were not so impressive for where Tom Riddle had aged gradually over the years, Voldermort's return had brought back a caricature of his former self, no longer brimming with health; more afflicted from the side-effects of the struggle to survive following his near-annihilation almost fifteen years ago.

"No." Voldermort held up a thin bony arm, his hand aloft turning his palm to face the one who had interrupted.

"Oswald Avery's death was unfortunate for he had long been valuable to my cause. He did my will and as a loyal servant he will be honoured here as a martyr."

Voldermort fell silent, watching as the Death Eaters, as a wizard, nodded their heads deferentially.

"…you dare to do this?!" A voice rang out, weak and broken, but defiant from in front of Voldermort. "…I did what I could…interrogated my father…your recommended methods killed him!…he knew nothing!…" Oswald Avery junior raised his head from the iron-hard earth, declaring his mutiny to his former peers.

Voldermort did not move, save to incline his head forward, as a man to a slight knock on the window.

"…I did as you commanded and sought the information you needed…but to no avail…and you – AHHH!" Avery's rising insubordination was quickly replaced with searing pain as Voldermort held his hand over the failed Death Eater. A stream of blue-white light emanated from the end of Voldermort's wand, travelling over his body.

To a non-wizard the effect would have seemed as if the condemned Avery was being filled with thousands of volts of electricity and in actual fact the Cruciatus curse which Voldermort had conjured silently yielded similar results. Around the spectacle the Death Eaters shuffled their feet, knowing that this punishment, though not fatal, was the closest survivable reprimand that Voldermort would mete out.

That implied that Avery was still valuable to Voldermort in some way, which did not sit comfortably with at least one Death Eater. Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward, wand raised in Avery's direction.

"He is expendable!" she screeched at the almost-ex Death Eater. "No information he has supplied has been relevant! He has had enough chances!" She looked furiously between the Dark Lord and Avery.

Voldermort looked up and at the same time ceased his torture of Avery. Bellatrix fell silent and inclined her head obsequiously.

"Bellatrix, you are my most loyal servant." Voldermort's words of praise fell like iron pellets on bone.

"Indeed Oswald Avery junior has failed and I am much obliged for your observation of this. However I have further use for him in matters that I am to reveal to you all tonight." He scanned the Death Eaters in an arc; looking at each one in turn before fixing Bellatrix with a stare.

"Your information has led to the opportunity for the future obliteration of muggles using Auld Magic. Because of this I instruct you, Bellatrix Lestrange to take command of this aspect of our work. Doyle has provided the necessary muggle artefacts from which the Auld Magic can be spawned."

Suddenly, he pointed towards Wormtail who, until then, had stood beside him, simpering and hanging onto every word. Jumping visibly, Wormtail stood sharply to attention.

"Wormtail," intoned Voldermort. "The bag. Give it to Bellatrix, that she may begin as soon as is wizardly possible." Wormtail picked up a black woollen sack, tied at the neck that lay by his feet and with some considerable effort (both mentally and physically) made the bag sail magically through the air and land in front of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"My Lord!" she exclaimed, in a clearly taken aback tone of voice. "This is indeed an honour. It does not need to be said that _I_ will not fail you." She darted glances at Avery, still prostrate on the ground and to her left towards Lucius Malfoy. At his sister-in-law's taunt, he stepped forward.

"Ah, Lucius." Voldermort turned his had slowly towards Malfoy, acknowledging his presence. "You come to bear witness of the innocence of your son, that is so very honourable. YOU HAVE FAILED, LUCIUS MALFOY!" Voldermort boomed, pointing a bony finger at the proud wizard.

"YOU AND YOUR SON HAVE _MOST_ DISPLEASED ME" Malfoy winced as his master spoke; his words scraping against his very soul and he stiffened in expectation of the same severe punishment that Avery had endured.

"However, it is fortunate for you that my plans have changed sufficiently that owning the book is not my main priority. Through Bellatrix's new appointment it will be retrieved and it is the discovery revealed to me by Severus Snape that has caused the change."

At the mention of Snape's name, many Death Eaters flinched; they knew Snape had been in Voldermort's bad books for some time. Now it seemed the situation had changed and some were disappointed that they would not see their most slippery of colleagues receive retribution.

"Snape and the squib have almost completed the weapon that Dumbledore wishes to use against me. It is incomplete and its nature is not yet clear. However he is to bring the weapon with him to our next calling in order to demonstrate its power. We will then know the true extent of our threat."

"And the squib?" Bellatrix Lestrange's words pierced the silent air.

Voldermort extended a hand towards the bag that Wormtail had thrown to her feet, uncoiling a finger again.

"Open it." At his command, Bellatrix stooped quickly and untied the old, filthy rope from the neck of the bag. Peering inside she returned Voldermort's glare with confusion.

"The _squib_ – " he spat the word as if it were poison from his lips. "The _muggle_, " he corrected, "that has been infecting our world for the last six months has been betrayed by one whom she had put her most faith. Cecilia Frobisher's muggle permit."

He held up a sheet of paper, folded into eighths by the corner so it fell open. A collective gasp of horror rippled from his followers as they whispered and muttered amongst themselves; some of them had heard Bellaxtix's diatribe at Snape's failure to remain in the muggle's but few had believed it.

"The muggle will soon be alone and she will make her whereabouts known to you, Lucius," Voldermort nodded to Malfoy, clicking his fingers so that the permit began to smoulder. "Once that occurs Bellatrix, you are to befriend her; make her trust you – " Bellatrix Lestrange blanched, as if she was about to be sick.

"You will have to act as if she is your…equal." The look of disgust on Bellatrix's face showed her revulsion at the task; far more than ever she had felt when she had been taken to Azkaban fourteen years ago.

"My Lord," she began, an edge of fear in her voice. "The task you have set me; it is most challenging." She spoke now as if addressing every Death Eater there, as well as Voldermort. "Every wizard knows that we are vastly superior to muggles. What if she guesses who I am?"

"And you will rise to the challenge, Bellatrix. I know you will not fail me." He pointed to the bag again.

"Within lie the necessary articles that will make your transformation complete. The muggle will not suspect you for she doubts the very wizards who have employed her and with the passing of days her hope will wither." The Death Eaters watched as Bellatrix removed some odd-looking clothing and accessories, picking up one or two of the items and considering them with a mixture of mystified interest and revulsion.

"Tell her of Lully and the book," Voldermort continued, " and she will have no cause to distrust you. Pry what information you can from her; this will only add to our enjoyment when Snape brings her to us on the night of the attack and we watch him kill her!" Voldermort held his hands up in a "V" of triumph.

"And then?" Lucius Malfoy took a step forward. "I have seen him with her. If he had betrayed us once before in her name my Lord, then do you believe that he will be able to – " Voldermort gave an inward growling scream that made Malfoy stop dead.

"Snape's loyalty is beyond question. Do you not believe that I was aware of his absence and condoned it? When changes in circumstance take place I must ACT QUICKLY!"

"S…so you expected Snape to be absent?" asked Bellatrix, her tone injected with a touch of

bitterness.

"Naturally. He has yet to fail me, but his usefulness is soon to cease. Once he has handed over the weapon and destroyed the muggle…he shall be of no more use to us. Then - " Voldermort held up has hands once more, making the blue-white lightning course from his fingers through the air and over the body of the still-prostrate Avery.

"Severus Snape will die!"

88888888

"See!" replied Hemione, pointing at the timetable that outlined the incredibly heavy spring term that was ahead of them.

As fifth years sitting their OWLs in six months' time every minute seemed to have been accounted for as Hermione pointed out to Ron solemnly. Even Wednesday afternoons, which traditionally finished an hour earlier for sporting activities or homework club, had been filled.

"What? Not another hour of transfiguration?" he asked glumly, flicking over his piece of parchment that was identical to Harry's and Hermione's and had arrived by Owl as they were just leaving Grimmauld Place that morning. "Like we don't have enough glorious hours of McGonagall in a week."

"Could be worse," muttered Harry, "could be potions."

"No," said Hermione, picking up a book. "Wednesday 5 is Muggle Studies."

"Muggle Studies!" chorused both Ron and Harry together.

"But it isn't even an examined subject! What in heaven's name are they playing at, giving us muggle studies in our sports hour?" Harry threw his timetable on the floor of the carriage in disbelief, just missing Crookshanks who jumped up indignantly onto Hermione's lap and began to purr noisily.

"Well, it won't be C– " Ron began, looking at lesson 5 on Wednesday.

"Mrs Frobisher's teaching it," stated Hermione breezily, petting Crookshanks idly as she turned over the next page in her book. "And lesson 3 on Thursdays. Oh, and the one on Saturday."

"What?!" exclaimed Harry and Ron loudly, looking at one another in horror.

"Mrs Frobisher's teaching again?!"

"We've got a lesson on Saturday?!" Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated and shook her head before glancing at the carriage door.

"We got the last one," said Ginny, holding out a copy of the latest "Daily Prophet". "First one of the year. What's up?"

"This," moaned Ron, pointing to the fifth-year's timetable. "We've lost our Wednesday Quidditch Practice time!"

"Where're your brothers?" asked Hermione, continuing to stare through the glass. "Thought they'd be back by now."

"The trolley-lady ran out of snacks, so they're probably trying to scam some from somewhere else. Or someone. So who's doing it now?"

"Mrs Frobisher," intoned Harry, folding his arms and turning to face the window. "What's she's doing back, that's what I want to know." Hermione closed her book and tucked it between herself and the wooden inlay of the armrest.

"If she's back, it's for a reason," began Hermione, looking between the two boys as Crookshanks departed her lap and made for the luggage rack above her head. "It means that she hasn't finished the work on your potion, Harry. "

"Don't know why not," continued Harry grimly. "Thought she'd handed it all over to Snape at Christmas."

"If she's back," repeated Hermione impatiently, "it's for a reason."

"Yes, to carry on getting off with Snape," hissed Ginny, meanly.

"Ginny!" Hermione gave the youngest Weasley a stern glance. "Don't be so silly; they only said that for a joke." Ginny raised her eyebrows doubtfully at Ron as Hermione turned to Harry. "You'll have to carry on with the work anyway and she's done the most work on it. You want to work with the most qualified?"

"Who says I have to carry on with the work?" asked Harry, indignantly. "And who says she's the best?" He watched Hermione play with the necklace at her neck, the one she had worn to the Hogwarts Yule Ball. She was plainly annoyed.

"How can you say that?" Hermione looked firmly at Harry in disbelief. "After she found out the link between science and magic she spent four whole days and nights in the library, cancelled lessons and everything, Harry." She looked away, touching the flower pendant absently. "She didn't do it for fun you know…" Hermione broke off.

"Not much fun for me, either – " began Harry.

"But the way you just dismiss it like it's not important! It's to do with getting rid of You-Know-Who for good!" Hermione leaned back in the chair and folded her arms crossly. Harry leaned forward to say something else, but Ron put his hand on his arm.

"I'm glad you understand it, Hermione," said Ron, diplomatically looking between Harry and Hermione. "Look, after the holidays we've just had we don't need any more of this." Harry sat back, glancing sideways at Ron.

"If we weren't at war, and we could talk about these things – " Hermione struck up again.

" – she'd be as famous as any of the scientists we've learned about; we _know_," insisted Ron, uncomfortably, unused to being the pacifier out of the three friends. It was usually him who was having the row with either Hermione or Harry.

"I still say it's because of Snape," said Ginny, looking loyally at Harry. "I know you think it's because of the work she's been doing, Hermione," Ginny continued, "but the amount of times you both came back to the common room at odd hours and talked about where she had been and what she'd been doing –"

"You were in the common room?!" asked Ron, aghast. "Spying on me and Harry?!"

"…I heard you on about the amount of time she'd spent in Snape's room, and Snape in hers…" Ginny's defensive justification trailing off under the indignant glare her brother was giving her.

"And how would you know that unless you'd been following her - _spying_?" Ginny intoned the last word mocking her brother's just before.

Now it was Ron's turn to be defensive as the twins and Hermione looked between him and Harry. Ginny sat back in her chair, folding her arms smugly.

"Some might say we were spying," said Ron evasively, looking at Harry who was slumped against the carriage window now. "Others might say we were looking out for Harry's interests. Still, seems dodgy. _And_ he took her to the Yule Ball – " he stared at Hermione, looking for confirmation.

" – you told us that," Harry joined in, "they were done up to the nines, you said." Ron nodded in agreement.

"Why would they do that if they didn't fancy each other?" he added.

"You've changed your tune," commented Ginny, cheekily to her brother. Ron shot her a look. "They went to the Order Ball together, Hermione," she added, as if that explained it.

"Well some people might say that about us, Ron. And we're friends." Hermione pulled out her book, flicking to the page she had been on earlier and staring at it furiously.

"Yes, you and Ron are just friends," said Ginny quietly, glancing furtively between the Yule Ball couple. Harry sat forward, an expression of irritated curiosity on his face.

"Why defend her Hermione? Just because you think what she's done is any good." Hermione shuffled in her seat and tucked one leg underneath her, attempting to convey that the conversation was below her now.

"Because there's more to all this than meets the eye, isn't there?" she replied briskly, continuing to read. "And it doesn't help when people go around spreading rumours," she looked scathingly at Harry. "She's actually did something worthwhile."

"Oh, let's talk about something else," moaned Ron, nudging Harry now as he saw his friend about to rise to the taunt. "What do you think caused the wonderfully miserable atmosphere this Christmas then?"

"That's cheerful," muttered Harry darkly, hunching his shoulders. He thought back to the many times over the holidays he had tried to engage his godfather in conversations when he'd returned, and the shrugs and dismissive comments that had resulted; the hushed voices and whispered conversations that had taken place.

And not just with Sirius, and not just when he – Harry – was around. At least that had made him feel slightly better, in a funny sort of way.

"There's definitely something that's gone on between Tonks and Lupin," said Ginny, looking thoughtful. "I reckon Mrs Frobisher had something to do with that, too" she added, looking at Harry.

"Does it matter?" asked Hermione crossly, turning over the page in her book.

"Of course it does! I mean they were, well…Tonks and Remus!" Ginny looked aghast at Hermione's lack of romantic curiosity. "Honestly – " Ginny looked at Ron and Harry, who were trying to look anywhere but at her, and think about anything but romantic thoughts.

"It wasn't as if they were engaged," continued Hermione, looking up at Ginny's indignant expression.

"But they loved each other!"

"Loved?" asked Ron, suddenly becoming interested. "Are you sure?"

"See what I mean about rumours?" sighed Hermione then jerked her head towards the door as the sliding panel was drawn to one side.

"Here we are," said Fred, walking in with his robes visibly full of food of a variety of shapes and sizes. "Did you miss us?" He began to pull out some shape-shifting strawberry laces, handing them to Ginny. "Just what we need."

"Thanks," said Ginny, watching the long red laces tie and untie themselves in her palm.

"Been hours since breakfast," continued George, setting down a few handfuls of every-flavour bean packets, gobstoppers and chocolate frogs. "What's up?" he added, looking at the sombre faces.

"This!" Ron practically shouted at his brothers, his annoyance at his quidditch practice time reigniting in his mind and stabbing his finger at the Wednesday afternoon lesson in disgust. "Honestly; it's as if McGonagall wanted us to lose this term!"

"And Mrs Frobisher's back," muttered Harry grumpily.

"Brilliant!" grinned George, nudging Fred, who pulled out more food, from the inside pocket inside his robe and handed it out.

"Is it?" muttered Harry again, taking a pumpkin pasty from Fred. "Thanks," he added.

"And what's happened at Grimmauld Place?" asked Ron, wondering about Ginny's observations.

"Yes, that's what we've been trying to figure out for the last two weeks – " began Fred, glancing slyly at George.

" – about what went on at the Order's Ball – " continued George, sitting down next to Hermione and nodding with interest at the title of the book sitting on her knees.

"Shshsh!" shushed Fred, kicking George sharply in the ankle and looking guilty. Ron and Harry looked at one another at the same time and a "told you so" message was passed silently between them.

"But it's been hard, hasn't it Harry, the way Sirius had been rather quiet." Ron nodded to Harry, engaging his friend in a mental struggle with his brothers. "Like when you wanted to talk about your parents Harry, and he just walked off." Harry nodded in agreement; not just to wangle information from George and Fred, but because it had actually happened.

"And how everyone went quiet when you asked about Cecilia, Ginny," Harry joined in; another event that had transpired, at Christmas Day lunch.

"Come on, out with it," demanded Ron, when the twins exchanged yet another guilty look.

"Who us?" said George, feeling the battle slipping from their grip.

"Yes, you," replied Ginny. "_You _were there when they had the Meeting."

"We know nothing; the Order didn't have a meeting," countered Fred.

"No, not an Order meeting," said Ron, looking at Harry. "The _Meeting;_ the one that lasted for two hours on Christmas Day afternoon?"

"Lynching, more like," chipped in Ginny, successfully carrying out a pincer movement on the twins' argument. Fred and George tried to look innocent; a predictably bad move.

"The one where they closed the kitchen? Where they must have been so involved with whatever it was they were talking about that they forgot you two clots were present?" George sighed; the final breath on behalf of their mortally wounded defence, neatly despatched with Ron's upper-cut comment.

"It's for our own good," piped up Hermione, stabbing the argument clean in the chest, "otherwise _wild rumours_ " she looked pointedly at Ginny, "are about all we'll have got to go on."

In a last ditch attempt, Fred and George's argument crawled back up to its knees, striking sporadically with an isolated memory from the back of Fred's mind.

"Hasn't Harry got anything to say?" he asked, looking at Harry and addressing him in the third person.

"Didn't Sirius tell him everything when he had that big meeting with Harry just before Christmas Dinner?" continued George, aiding the now-crippled defence.

"That's right!" exclaimed Ginny, looking at Harry. "Dumbledore practically dragged you into the kitchen to speak to Sirius, and you were in there for ages…"

Harry said nothing, looking around at the five questioning faces staring back at him.

"And we know it must have been about the stuff from the last night, because we heard Dumbledore say that it was a regrettable Christmas Eve," said Hermione, looking sidelong at George. "Extendable Ears," she confirmed sheepishly.

"No," said Harry quietly, glancing out of the window.

"No?!" said Ron, incredulously.

"No!" shouted Harry, getting to his feet. The train slowed and he lost his balance, leaving Harry falling towards the window. He hit it sharply; its impact adding to his rising anger. "No!" he shouted again, louder this time, regaining his balance.

"You're right," he confirmed angrily, looking at Fred and George. "Dumbledore instructed Sirius to tell me everything that had happened the previous evening! But he just stood there!" Harry could feel his face growing hot and he was aware of his friends' stunned expressions.

"He just stood there and said nothing," raged Harry. "Nothing! Absolutely nothing to me about whatever it was that had been obviously going on."

He stopped suddenly; the problem that had been on his mind clearly off it now and his expression changed to glum embarrassment. Ginny gave him a look of sympathy.

"But then he took you into his study that evening again, and told you something then," pressed Ron, clearly shocked at Harry's reaction. "You told me you were going because Sirius wanted to tell you something important," he clarified.

"He was going to," said Harry, sitting back down. "But then he couldn't. He looked away from me and told me to go. Satisfied?" He looked at Fred and George. George proffered a chocolate frog. Hermione turned and stared at the twins.

"Okay, okay," they said in unison, burying as a war hero their defence that they had kept alive and kicking for as long as they could.

"But you can't tell anyone we told you this," George looked uncharacteristically solemn as he looked at four expectant faces. "We swore we wouldn't tell."

"Dumbledore?" inquired Harry.

"Mum." Ron's and Ginny's faces wore expressions of concern at the thought of Molly Weasley's wrath; even Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance of worry.

"So no gossiping," continued George, looking at Fred. "And you've not got to get jumping to conclusions, either…"

"…and Mrs Frobisher is one cool teacher and we won't have anyone speaking badly of her, will we George?"

" 's right," said George, beaming at the others, "she's sound. No insults," he added throwing a warning glare at Ginny. Ron, Harry, Ginny and even Hermione sat forward, ready to catch every word of the twins' story.

"Apparently, Sirius had been trying to get rid of her from day one because of her work with Harry and took the party as an opportunity to finish the job." George came straight to the point, glancing at each of them in turn."

"Called her a lot of really horrible things; got heavy with her…"

"Violent?!" gapsed Ron, clearly shocked as he gripped the edge of the seat.

"And where was Snape when this was going on?" interrupted Hermione, annoyed. "He went with her," she reminded the twins as she idly fiddled with the pendant on the chain round her neck again.

"He'd left, apparently. Went to see a man about a dog." All of them, including George, gave Fred an unconvinced look.

"Okay, we can probably guess," said Harry, "go on," he prompted quickly.

"Cecilia told Sirius to mind his own business…"

"…he bawled at her in front of everyone that...their faces were a picture in the Meeting…" added Fred, getting sidetracked.

"Yes, he said she was going to be all our downfalls," said George hastily.

"But good old Mrs Frobisher stood up for herself; stared him straight down and gave him what for!" exclaimed Fred, proudly.

"Good for her," said Hermione quietly; her small crush on Sirius falling hastily to nothing as the twins recounted the tale.

"That was until he pulled out his wand – "

" – in front of everyone – "

" – burned her research book – "

" – ordered Kreacher to carry out his father's blood deed – "

" – called her m…I can't bring myself to say it!" exclaimed George. He touched Fred's arm suddenly as their usual bubbly and carefree natures dissolving and hitherto grave demeanours.

They looked at their audience: Hermione had grown pale; her hand to her mouth, clearly shocked. Ginny looked amazed and exchanged glances with a disbelieving Harry; Ron remained fixed, staring at his brothers.

"Called her what?" insisted Harry forcefully. George took a breath, and looked at Fred.

"Well I'm not going to say!" he snapped at George before looking at Harry.

"Come on!" insisted Harry, folding his arms, "called her what?" Without replying, George took a sheet of parchment and pulled out his wand, angling it like a quill and wrote a word on it. As he turned it to Harry, it began to combust at the corner.

"Misborn?" asked Harry, clearly lost. "What does that mean – " he broke off as Hermione sank back in the seat of he carriage; her face pale and tears coursing down her cheeks.

"Hermione?" Harry's tone had changed, and he spoke quietly now. Hermione wiped at her face randomly with her hand and she looked away from him and out onto the harsh, Northern landscape being overshadowed now by dark rolling cloud. Eventually she regained her grip and looked at the twins.

"But she's OK now?" she asked, patently ignoring Harry.

"It took Dumbledore to stop Sirius from going through with it," said George, patting Hermione comfortingly on her forearm. "And even then it took some doing."

"It's no wonder he couldn't speak to you, Harry," said Ron turning to his friend. "Nor to any of us the last two weeks.

"And he's normally really chatty to you, Hermione," added Ginny, sidling in a friendly taunt. Hermione narrowed her eyes and giving her a "look".

"Well, if he called her that, I won't be speaking to him ever again," she sniffed, turning to the twins. They nodded in agreement.

"But what about Remus?" prompted Ginny.

"Remus? What's he got to do with all of this?" Ron cast his sister a look.

"Yes," she insisted. "It doesn't explain why he and Tonks haven't been able to stay in the same room as each other for more than five minutes. Or even look at each other, for that matter."

"Come on," said Harry, giving up on the last mystery and determined now to get to the bottom of this mystery as the twins shifted uncomfortably on the carriage seats.

"Cecilia went home for Christmas…"

"…and Remus went with her…"

"What?!" Harry was on his feet; the lack of detail from the twins irrelevant from their meaning.

"They went together?!" joined in Ron, "like _together_, together?"

"Are you blind, Ron?" asked Hermione, through her ebbing sniffs. "He spent enough time with her last time Sirius – _tried to do her in_!" she finished raggedly, tears building up behind her eyes again.

"Together." George and Fred nodded as they spoke the word in unison.

"Well I'm definitely with Sirius on this one," said Ginny, folding her arms defiantly. "Not with the m- thing," she gabbled quickly as four looks of disbelief bombarded her vision. "But she split up Tonks and Remus!" she declared defensively.

"And I don't think its any of our business," concluded Hermione coolly.

"Still, Sirius must have had his reasons," said Harry finally. "He – "

"You can't be serious!" Hermione's indignant tone cut through her emotions like acid through grease. "Not for attempting to kill her in front of the Order! Not for planning it, all those times we were there!"

She looked for support now from the twins and Ron, who gave it resolutely. Harry leaned back against the glass, looking out at the clouds that were threatening bitter, winter rain.

"He doesn't trust her, Hermione, and neither do I."

88888888

Cecilia returned to Hagrid's hut the morning that the Hogwarts Express was due into Hogsmeade station. Her work with the flobberworms had improved the analysis and she had come to collect some more.

Hagrid wouldn't be there she knew and she had arranged for him to leave another batch of the creatures on the table for her to collect that morning.

She opened the door slowly; Fang would be there somewhere, she knew and though she had never worried about dogs before she didn't wish to be reckless. No, she thought wryly; she'd done enough of that in the very recent past.

Snape had met her in the potions classroom each day that week and although he had stayed for less time than she would have liked, it had been productive. It was probably for the best anyway that he'd left her to it though, Cecilia thought as she walked slowly over the floorboards towards the table. The label of reckless could be applied to her feelings that she had when he was near these days; namely that she should follow Snape each time he left.

Perhaps she could help him if she followed; be there with him…for him…

She had very nearly done so on each occasion that he'd excused himself but had stopped herself just in time, making herself focus on the repetitive analysis process. Forcing herself to think that this was the best way to help him, as well as Harry, in the long run.

And besides, he wouldn't want her following him; the work was dangerous enough as it was.

In a stone bowl on Hagrid's rough wooden table the bowl the flobberworms wriggled and writhed, as if alerted to her presence as she neared them. Cecilia smiled; appraising the new additions to her brood. Perhaps you'd like to try some helianthus leaf tincture this afternoon, eh?

It was growing ever difficult for Cecilia to avoid thinking about the future. No matter how many times she dismissed it, it came bouncing back into her hypothalamus when she was lost in thought. Was it because she felt uncomfortable here now, knowing her hopes before Christmas had been borne on her own naïve trust?

And even though they had agreed to focus on the potions ingredients, Cecilia had to put it out of her mind time and time again that their time would be reduced dramatically if she knew Lily Potter's exact DNA sequence because it would narrow down the range of ingredients that they were seeking.

The lump underneath the blanket on the chair by the fire moved as she turned to go and a great presence of mind alerted Cecilia to the necessity of replacing the flobberworm bowl back on the table lest they get knocked out of her hands as the huge frame of Fang bounded over to her. Between licks as he put his huge paws up onto her shoulders she stroked him thoroughly, massaging him through his fur with her fingertips.

"Hello, beautiful," Cecilia fussed, "have you been a good boy then?"

The other thing that was a recurring theme was her status at Hogwarts. Was she to continue to teach? She had to know; the students would be streaming through the gates very soon and she wanted to be sure of what to say to them should they ask.

"Good boy," she said to Fang affectionately as he continued to bathe her in canine saliva. "Hagrid's lucky to have you…"

Cecilia _had_ settled back, of sorts, although the first couple of days had been difficult. She'd trouble re-engaging with the research however and diversions were appealing.

Not content with the clear-out of her belongings, her brain tried to tempt her back to the library; down to the kitchen; a letter to Tonks, and another to Libby, plan some lessons and read the muggle studies books…each one she willed herself to ignore before continuing with the work.

She reached up her hand to stop Fang from licking the top of her head and he barked, wagging his tail in delight.

"I've got no food with me, sweetheart," she told him sadly, petting his long hair round his nape. "Hagrid'll be back soon," she soothed as Fang's tail beat rhythmically against the floor of the hut.

At least their work was actually progressing, even if it was unbearably slow. She'd had a long and in-depth discussion with Snape about Petunia Dursley's sample; at least they had something of Harry's blood family and another one regarding the matrix effects caused by her use of the flobberworms: where they were useful, being (in the loosest sense possible) live test subjects, the downside was that it wasn't an exact match.

Another problem was her acquisition of appropriate solvents; the water from the main Hogwarts supply was also magical and though she still had some from when Nick's kind donation in the summer, it was running out fast now that the analysis rate for the potion ingredients was increasing.

At least there was plenty of chlorinated solvent, but that had the effect of interfering with the hormonal to cellular energy transfer that occurred in the wizard samples and she was unable to detect whether the loss was due to laboratory problems or if it was accurate and her calculations were wrong.

Well, she had found time to file and label the hair and blood samples that had been stowed away much earlier. It gave her a sense of control in a funny sort of way knowing that the only difference between wizards and non-wizards was actually the genetic ability to utilise energy.

So really, when she had so many problems to solve, she had no time for distractions.

"I'm just getting these here," she said to Fang as he made to lick her face and, as he thankfully removed his paws from her shoulders, he dashed past Cecilia and towards the door, knocking past her legs with his tail.

"Come here," she called as bounced over to the window. "Hagrid won't be happy with me if you get out!"

"Oh, I don't think Hagrid'll be too upset with the person who has prevented the Merpeople from being inconvenienced this summer," said Dumbledore as he stepped in through the door, stepping lightly into the hut. Cecilia stopped stock still as she watched him move towards her, a look of ethereality on his features and he dropped his hand to one side and letting Fang nuzzle it.

"Professor!" she exclaimed, stepping back as he moved forward and Cecilia felt her heart soar at his presence. A lot had happened since he had conversed with her via floo. But whatever his reason for being here she would be reassured.

"Good morning," she continued, putting down the flobberworms. "Are you looking for me?" Dumbledore nodded, taking a glimpse into the bowl that Cecilia had set back down on the table, raising his eyebrows in interest.

"Indeed it is a good morning," Dumbledore continued, flicking into existence a huge bone which he held down for Fang. The dog secured it between his powerful jaws, growling in visceral delight.

"Your work is going well, I believe," Cecilia nodded. Getting there, she thought, though there are some minor teething problems.

"And I'm sure you are aware that the students are due to return today." He looked at Cecilia without expression and Cecilia felt herself nodding again. "How do you intend to explain your presence here?"

Cecilia was about to speak, then stopped: normally Dumbledore asked the leading questions, implying the correct answers that you really stupid if you missed. But not this time; this time Dumbledore had thrown the ball back in her court.

Silence reigned as she struggled to think. Don't.

Words of instruction littered her mind like brown leaves falling from trees as she suppressed emotion and over-analysis.

Don't think. Say what you feel. What you think is for the best.

"When I was a muggle studies teacher last term, that seemed to work," she found herself saying, returning Dumbledore's neutral expression as she brushing Fang's drooling head away from her ankle.

"Severus is delighted with your progress, I have no doubt you are aware. However I could not compel you to remain if you feel you wish to terminate our contract."

The depths of the night had her contemplating the situation keeping her from sleep as she thought and thought. But each time she had came to the same conclusion, the same that she had come to six months ago, even with the added considerations this time. Cecilia shook her head.

"No."

"Then carry on with what you're doing, Mrs Frobisher. Develop Harry's potion with Severus, following his guidance and teach Muggle Studies."

Cecilia beamed, kneeling to fuss a very contented Fang. She would be able to teach again. She could teach science; she could teach history. She could teach the Universal link. _Could _she teach the Universal link?

"I've got one question," said Cecilia, looking up at Dumbledore.

"Of course." He inclined his head in a slow nod and Cecilia swallowed.

"Am I restricted in my choice of material for my classes?"

Cecilia left the question hanging in mid-air. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. Shaking his head, the Headmaster of Hogwarts slowly got to his feet; his expression breaking into a small smile.

"Then we have a deal," he concluded, encompassing her hand in his and shaking it thoroughly. "Welcome back, Mrs Frobisher, welcome back."

88888888

Two weeks after shaking hands with her employer Cecilia Frobisher was beginning to wish that she hadn't. Well, nothing was actually _bad_ but it was beginning to feel that nothing was going right at all.

The problems that had worried her in her first week at Hogwarts had grown increasingly worse; each time Cecilia felt she might be getting somewhere, it turned out to be beset with problems. It was like trying to navigate a quagmire, Cecilia analogised grimly, without knowing the best way out. Or even if there was an "out".

Her lessons had been reduced to fourteen a week including one on a Saturday and she and Snape had decided that the best place for her to continue with the work to prevent them from raising suspicion was in the muggle studies classroom.

There at least has been a positive step, although she couldn't claim credit for the inspiration. In fact it had been a comment from Seamus Finnigan who, having chanced on her in the Muggle Studies classroom the second day back, before their next lesson.

"So all these muggle things we've learned," he'd begun, gesturing towards a timetable. "Can you let us know what we'll be doing this term? Must be important if we're with you Saturday morning."

"I, er, not sure yet, Seamus," she'd said, putting down a tray of equipment that she'd moved from the potions classroom and notice his eyes stray to it. "But rest assured, you'll be able to use your wand," she'd smiled.

"I knew it!" Seamus had proclaimed. "There's no way Dumbledore'd have wasted our time with boring old muggle stuff if it hadn't got anything to do with our OWLs." And with that, he'd waved his wand idly towards the glassware and grinned, knowingly.

And Cecilia had thought, why not? They wouldn't know otherwise what she was teaching them, if she described it in terms of learning about muggles, and it'd certainly speed up the analysis time. And explain why she had all of this stuff set up.

The lesson plans she'd drawn up were both creative and inspired; allowing her to access the wavelengths of the spells while explaining more about science. More than she'd dreamed of. And she would not need to worry with too many meetings with Harry.

Harry.

Well she'd been sure Dumbledore would have spoken to him too; made him aware how important it was, but from the wide berth he and the other children had been giving her, it made Cecilia wonder.

And now, on a grey and miserable Saturday evening as rain beat against the glass, recalculating the wavelength and frequencies of the waves from the second weeks' worth of muggle studies lessons at the back of the classroom, an ever-increasing feeling of melancholic disaffection was beginning to press on her chest.

Most of the results worked as spells, and some corresponded to the results from the flobberworms. But not all, and not consistently enough. Why wasn't it working?

And even though the young wizards in Hogwarts were appearing to treat her as they had always done, were they? Were they?! Did they know about the work? Were they humouring her?

Was her secret written on her forehead for all to read? Were the sporadic taunts from various Slytherin students genuinely taunts at their belief that she was a squib or did they know she was a muggle? Were they benign, or was she likely to find her room turned upside down again?

At least she'd burned the most incriminating stuff, but there were still things like muggle money and a picture of Freya to find.

454 nanometres? It had been twice that with the spell courtesy of Angelina two days ago. And with the flobberworms. But there was no correlation. Why couldn't she make it match?

For the third time that night a boiling tube bought it as she threw it in anger at the floor and shrieked in frustration.

"Why? Why?!"

She knew she shouldn't care about the children but their behaviour, however slightly worse it had become since Christmas was beginning to affect her lessons in the way it had never done before; anxiety and unease had begun to trickle down the back of her neck before each lesson had begun, like cold water.

Cecilia glanced at the microscope upon which she had positioned a beam of torchlight. The torch was balanced on a book with a makeshift raybox holding a slit in order to concentrate the light onto the glass. Had it moved?

No, the angle differential was still right; 60 degrees. Cecilia checked the lenses and the height of the stage away from the eyepiece. All good.

She turned and began to unscrew the next jar and tipped some of the contents into her hand. "Dried Doxies" read the label and Cecilia examined the creatures curiously. Very definitely dead, thank heavens, she thought as she examined their long limbs with balled fists at the end and long, very sharp-looking teeth.

And she'd laboured on in the classroom, with first, third, fourth, sixth, fifth, second years remaining bright, planning and delivering interesting and dynamic lessons. But not with confidence.

The students were doing something for her, Cecilia told herself, conveniently ignoring the outburst Ginny Weasley had come out with the day before. Challenging behaviour, as OfSTED would have described it. She had to remain focused.

"H-hm."

Cecilia turned round, curling her hand around the dead doxies in her hand. No-one.

She turned back to the doxy, which had slightly disintegrated in her hand walked over to the desk she had manoeuvred next to the table with the microscope and slid the next ingredient from the potions cupboard onto a watch glass before padding briskly across the flagstone floor to the hearth.

"H-hm." The cough Cecilia _knew _she'd heard had come from near the door. She took a step in its direction.

"Hello?"

Silence.

Concentrate, she told herself firmly. Once she'd got the next solution on the go then at least another couple of her precious flobberworms could add some more detail to the already rich mass of information; at least the effects had been the same for the creatures. The magical ingredients had begun to selectively shut down mitochondia in the worms' primitive endocrine system in exactly the same way each time. That was the link; it just needed perfecting. And they were only up to D.

Shattering the silence, a thunderous rattling sound that appeared to be coming from near the microscope equipment made Cecilia lurch in shock. She dropped the cauldron she was holding and water spilled across the flagstone floor as she spun around, giving a shriek.

"Who's there?!" Cecilia demanded, her voice cut with fear. "This is _my_ classroom, and – " she broke off in both her step and lecture. "Ahhh!" she added as a cloud of allegedly dead doxys buzzed furiously towards her.

"Ahhh!" Cecilia continued, trying to swat them off her as they tore towards her, their arms outstretched and fists clenched, looking for all the world like miniature boxers. Middleweights with razor sharp teeth.

"Immobiulus!"

Cecilia heard behind her, as she held up her arm defensively. As the first doxy bore down on her defensive figure, it froze in mid air.

Snape stepped forward, his wand raised, throwing it hither and thither as he froze other doxys that had sprung to life from the ingredients jar.

"Immobilus! Immobilus! Immobilus!"

When Cecilia realised that she wasn't actually going to be bitten to death by these horrible little creatures she straightened up.

"Thank you," she spoke to Snape gratefully. "Another couple of seconds and you would have had been without your useless assistant for a few days." Cecilia made her voice sound light, but she'd never referred to herself as his assistant before. But in truth that's how she was beginning to feel; like there was no end to this mass of information that she must wade through.

"Hm," he replied, using his wand to move the frozen doxies back into their jar. "Then a good job I did for I am not sure whether the work would wait should my research partner decide to waste time being ill."

Cecilia sighed, her shoulders visibly sagging. Despite having learned to read his very slight inclinations in manner and voice her mind was so filled with the research that the reference to her being his partner went straight over her head.

"Are you here for a reason? Only – " Cecilia broke off as he held up the broken end of a boiling tube that had bitten the dust an hour ago.

"And what aspect of our work has caused this? I do not recall us agreeing that any part of the analysis would involve the destruction of our glassware." The ends of the glass sparkled in the lamplight and Cecilia frowned, only for her brow to soften slightly as the top half of the tube reappeared and he handed her the tube, as good as new.

"What's the matter?" Snape came to the point and fixed her with a stare. Cecilia sagged further. It was hopeless to pretend it was going well. It felt overwhelming. Instead of pressing her Snape made his way over to the microscope setup at the back of the classroom, flicking over a few pages of her notebook, volume six before scrutinising the results of her latest flobberworm experiment.

Cecilia watched him; whatever the reason he was here now, at least she could talk to him about the work. Perhaps he could suggest what was going wrong; what she had missed.

"I've got a tenuous link," said Cecilia, looking down at the boiling tube in her hand. "But it seems to be complicated by other factors." He nodded, and looked back at the book.

"I see your detail is as ever: impeccable. Which explains why you are on "D" of the potions ingredients." She nodded, and remained silent. He'll go in a minute, thought Cecilia. Then I can get on with it.

"And I must congratulate you on your use of the students in your lessons to carry out the work," Snape continued, turning over a few more pages. "It does show that they are useful for something at least and frees up the quidditch pitch for Slytherin to practice." He frowned once or twice as Cecilia watched him and he looked up. "But you are surely not using different students for different spells?"

Cecilia nodded, not sure where he was going. Then it dawned on her and she didn't know whether to go and kiss Snape for noticing, or throw the boiling tube he had mended across the classroom again.

In fact she did neither of these things and as she felt her face crumple she threw her fist down by her side and stamped across the floor back to her book, nudging Snape aside and looking at the pages again.

Of course there were complications! How could she have been so stupid? The most fundamental of scientific enquiry skills and she'd ignored it completely.

"Yes!" she snapped, looking at Snape and speaking a tone of self-derision. "I have. I've been using different students because I've been so stupid to ignore logic."

"I would be inclined to agree with you, Cecilia, but the fact remains that each element of your research defies my belief of your stupidity, as it has done since the first moment you began work here. I don't see why we cannot sort this through. Where are your records of Potter's spells?" Cecilia shook her head.

"I can see he has done them with his peers in your lessons, but – "

"There are none," said Cecilia quietly. "He has attended no meetings that we arranged."

"WHAT?!" Snape's face was white with shocked anger. He banged his fist on the table next to the microscope making a watch glass fall to its death onto the flagstone floor.

"Now you know why I have so few of these left," muttered Cecilia grimly. But there's no way in the world I am going to chase Harry to attend. "I've reminded him on several occasions, Severus," she added.

"Potter!" he growled, pulling out his wand and repairing the watch glass. "You have enough to do without even having to remind him. He should be here whenever you say! He is clear about that!" He glared at Cecilia; fury behind his eyes. "Leave it with me. I will see he misses no others! Do you still have the solutions?" Cecilia shook her head, taking a few steps back and looking down.

"But it makes no difference; the work is invalid now anyway. I can probably narrow down a few, but it's still going to take an age to go through all of these again!"

"I don't think that makes much of a difference now," continued Snape, his tone of voice changing from agitated rage to a low, soft tenor.

Before she had a chance to question him, Snape had stepped to one side and made his way back towards the fireplace.

"There is something I need to tell you," he said slowly, his tone now cold and distant as he gazed towards the fireplace. Forgetting her woes, Cecilia followed him and sat on the bench next to where he was standing, recalling the night in October when he had shared in detail many aspects of his past.

"Forgive me," he began, not looking at her. Cecilia noticed his arm twitch. Was it in Calling, or a subconscious reflex action, she wondered. She placed a hand on his upper arm gently; whatever it was it was clearly difficult for him to tell her.

"I have just come from a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix." Images, not particularly pleasant ones fleeted through Cecilia's mind and she fought to concentrate on the here and now as Snape angled his head stiffly towards her.

"You are aware that the pace of events has changed." Cecilia nodded; he'd explained that to her a fortnight ago when they had met to discuss the work. It was the single most important factor that had caused her to become almost paranoid about her slow progress in contrast.

"This evening, we have arranged the battle plan which is to be carried out the moment we have completed the potion." He stopped and the silence that followed was so great that Cecilia was beginning to accept that this was all he was going to share with her.

"The battle will be swift and it will be simple. And the nature of our potion will be crucial in the arrangements that have been arranged. I am aware of the amount of work you have undertaken and while much of it is defunct, much of it is irrelevant now for another course of action has been agreed."

Snape put his hand on top of hers so very lightly that Cecilia was almost in doubt that he had actually made contact. Without looking at her, he watched the fire she had lit almost half an hour before, as the flames jumped and flickered in the grate.

"The battle will take place in the Forbidden Forest, for this is where the Dark Lord is to announce his own return. The Order will surround the Death Eaters and Harry is to launch his attack to disarm him once he has been stripped of his powers by the potion. This will enable our Aurors to bring him down."

Cecilia found that she too had begun to stare at the fire as she listening to Snape's clipped sentences. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him: when was this attack likely to take place? Had all the Order agreed? Where was he – Snape – going to be? And what about her for that matter? Did Harry know?

"So the potion," Cecilia began, her mind trying to race further than her mouth in order to phrase her thoughts appropriately. "We're just going to make it the same way? Nothing's changed? We're going to make a reversal potion too?"

Ignoring her questions, he turned to Cecilia, sitting down next to her on the bench, taking her hand from his arm. She withdrew it carefully, as if retreating from an unexploded bomb.

"We must be accurate as well as quick. The spell that Potter is required to perform is an Unforgivable Curse. The Unforgivable Curse, in fact that the Dark Lord failed with when Potter was an infant – "

Snape cut off, and silence reigned again.

"Avada Kedavra." She felt a chill pass down her own spine. Although never having witnessed it herself, she recalled Tonks's images of the muggle who had died under the curse. Cecilia realised she had uttered the words aloud only when Snape had turned sharply to her, looking her up and down disdainfully.

"Yes. It must be this curse for this will be the curse the Dark Lord himself will perform to herald his rebirth."

"Does Harry know? Is he aware of this?" Because if there was one thing Cecilia was not prepared to do was to break the news to him.

"Professor Dumbledore is to inform him in due course. The battle plan is not a popular one amongst the Order. But all have agreed to professionalism." Cecilia smiled wryly as Snape's gaze returned to the fire.

She could understand who would have objections and not just Sirius Black: if she had not been so immersed in the research herself and had heard it then she may have objections too. Whatever way you looked at it, it sounded horrific.

"So once we have suitable ingredients for the potion, and the antidote, we need to calibrate it to Avada Kedavra?" Snape looked at her slowly; his face more sombre than ever Cecilia had seen it before.

"It isn't as simple as that. We do not have the time to test everything; we need to make the potion, test it and then assess its physiological effects – _it's the only way_ – " he emphasised, holding up a hand to Cecilia's argument. She swallowed. Avada Kedavra.

That was the most powerful spell known to wizards which had the ability to extinguish life in seconds.

"I am here for the rest of the evening, Cecilia and tomorrow in order for us to work on this together."

"We're never going to do all of the ingredients by the weekend!" exclaimed Cecilia, getting to her feet. "And test them with Av – the Curse as well."

"We won't need to," said Snape, looking up at her. "Many of the ingredients can be classified according to their origin and effects. Once we have established from your work which give the correct cellular energy levels we can cut down the list from thousands to…maybe fifty?"

"Oh!" Cecilia sighed dramatically, throwing her hands down to her sides in annoyance. Why hadn't he told her this before? Admittedly she'd not asked, and had gone to assiduous lengths in order to test the ingredients, especially in terms of their safety.

"Well we won't need Harry for a while then, until we know which is the safest." We will? she silently asked him as Snape cast her a look of disagreement.

The Order had agreed, she supposed. And if she was going to stick to her New Year's resolution of remaining emotionally detached from the wizard world then she would do well to follow his lead.

"Let's just narrow down what you've got so far, and we'll try the rest in due course."

"Now?" Cecilia heard surprise in her own voice as she spoke to Snape. It was just that he didn't usually stay for very long, especially at this time of the day.

"Unless you have an urgent dinner appointment that you cannot miss, then yes," he said smoothly, picking up the jar of doxies. "Shall we recommence?"

And Cecilia and Snape worked for almost five hours solidly, going through her notes, sorting and classifying, Snape performing spells and Cecilia predicting, planning, analysing results. They considered each factor, contemplated every step and drew similarities and differences between energy levels, types of ingredient, effect as a spell.

As Cecilia handed a conical flask to Snape for the residue of a sample, she reflected on their working relationship. It was how they had been before with the science, before Christmas and before she had found the Universal link. A familiar place, thought Cecilia as she relaxed quietly into the work; like when she worked the night shift with Nick at the start, coming from the same place and heading towards a common goal.

With Nick, it had been almost as if they knew what each other were thinking; they used to finish each others' sentences; if one was in the lab a few minutes before the other then the instruments would not only be switched on, but the programs loaded in, even before they'd agreed on what next to analyse.

And despite the restrictive, pressing feeling in her chest that still remained, its grip wasn't quite as tight as it had been earlier that evening.

"You'll be off in a few minutes, then?" said Cecilia, reangling the microscope stage for the griffin claw extract that was to be analysed next.

"Another ten minutes, yes," he replied, glancing towards the fireplace. Cecilia glanced there too but there was nothing there.

"So you'll continue with the ingredients and the spells; and I'll do the solutions," she continued, taking the crushed essence that Snape had performed the spells on half an hour ago and adding the contents to a beaker. Blue sparks flicked across the surface and she stirred it, glancing momentarily at Snape.

"And Potter will perform the same spells as I, curses with me and the potion with you and we can compare the energies and wavelengths," Snape concluded. "Now if you'll excuse me Cecilia, I really will have to leave you." He looked sideways at her as she began to sample the griffin claw solution. "And although my words are probably wasted Cecilia, I would advise you to rest also."

Cecilia smiled a little as she mounted the solution between the plates and shook her head.

"I'll finish this and tidy up," she replied, noticing his left arm twitch at the shoulder slightly.

"Goodnight, Mrs Frobisher, " he finished, proceeding towards the muggle studies classroom door.

"And although mine are also probably wasted too, please take care," Cecilia said under her breath as she watched him pass through the door before returning to her work.

Closing the door behind him Snape paused, holding onto the doorknob momentarily and exhaled before marching intently down the corridor and out into the night…

Inside the muggle studies classroom Cecilia proceeded back round to the table nearer to the front and retrieved the prism that she needed to split the light into its corresponding wavelengths and the torch and the raybox.

Placing the prism in front of the strong torch ray, Cecilia looked down now at the spectrum through the lens, making sure that the full range was visible before moving the sample in line with the ray and calculating the difference in angle.

"H-hm."

Dropping the slide Cecilia span round, looking at the door to see who had entered without her noticing. But there was no-one there.

"463nm" she wrote next to the entry in her book of "griffin's claw solution, 1" before turning the sample round to test for the energy.

"H-hm. Cecilia."

"Who's there?" she said loudly, not taking her eyes off the sample.

"Tonks. Down here. In the fire."

Cecilia's head flew round, looking sharply at the fireplace and she dropped her biro on the floor. Within the flames was Tonks's head, outlined in green and shimmering.

"Tonks," she replied uncertainly, walking over to the fireplace. "Hello."

"Hello Cecilia," she replied. There was silence.

"I just want to say – " Tonks began.

"Look, I don't see why – " Cecilia said. She stopped, waiting for Tonks to continue. When she didn't, Cecilia took the lead.

"Sorry," said Cecilia. "I took you to be your cousin. He used to pop in and out of that fireplace when I was working. Were you here earlier?" The young witch nodded her fiery head.

"Look," continued Tonks, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry to hear what happened. And also that I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us." Cecilia nodded slowly, unsure of where the young witch was going with this.

"Same here," she replied. "Remus…" Cecilia stopped when she saw Tonks's expression.

"I knew Remus never really loved me; somehow I've always known. But that's behind me now. And how is your work?"

"Ticking by," said Cecilia carefully. "I believe Snape reports to the Order with our findings."

"Hardly," replied Tonks. "He's made one report since you've returned, and I know you've been in here nearly all hours." Cecilia looked at her in awe and Tonks returned it, looking sheepish.

"I just wanted to check you were OK," Tonks replied. "You are, aren't you." Despite herself, Cecilia nodded.

"Didn't notice…" said Cecilia.

"People often don't notice things right in front of their eyes," said Tonks.

"…but I think Severus did."

"Yes," said Tonks, smiling. "I had to duck out quite quickly on more than one occasion. Look, I came to tell you something. We had a meeting tonight and a plan's been decided." Cecilia tried to look surprised.

"Oh?"

"Yes, and Severus was made to promise he wouldn't tell you until Dumbledore had told Harry. But I wasn't," she added rebelliously. "And I think you should know."

And so Tonks told Cecilia what Snape had told her almost six hours ago, about the Order surrounding Voldermort and the Death Eaters when they appeared to announce his return, outside the castle from a tip off once the potion was ready. It didn't sound any better the second time she heard it, although whether by accident or design, Tonks did not mention the Unforgivable curse. Throughout however Cecilia tried to remain focused and polite, giving nothing away that she already knew everything Tonks was telling her.

"So anyway, I wanted to let you know," finished Tonks lamely. "I didn't think it was fair you didn't know."

"Thank you, Tonks. I appreciate it." Cecilia smiled graciously and Tonks returned it as their conversation petered out to nothing.

"Well, goodnight," said Tonks eventually. "Or should I say good morning. Got a duty to get to. Near Birmingham, actually," she added as her head began to fade.

"Bye," said Cecilia as the green flame blinked out. Getting to her feet she returned to the experiment, looking at the solution sandwiched between the plates.

Where was she? Where had she got to? Of course, recording the results.

For good measure, Cecilia remeasured the angle using a second sample, recording it faithfully. Then she retested its energy before proceeding to tidy away, refusing to dwell on the conversation with Tonks and mentally distancing herself from everything but cold hard facts.

88888888

"Well, that's plain to see," replied in a hushed tone Ron, flicking his "History of Magic" textbook back to the contents page and looking at the page number for the "Ministry of Magic, 1900 to 1950" chapter. "The fact that you've left every muggle studies lesson promising to turn up to Mrs Frobisher's meetings with you and every time you don't attend."

It was late Sunday afternoon and the Gyffindor common room was all but deserted. Ginny Weasley was sitting cross-legged by a roaring fire, reading an Arithmancy book; the runes on the front cover, picked out in silver, glittering hypnotically. Over by the window Seamus Finnigan was sitting with his back to the glass, writing a long essay which by the look of the title was the killer that Professor McGonagall had set all of the fifth years on cross-species transfiguration.

"What?!" said Hermione, her ears pricking up from the other sofa where she too was tackling McGonagall's essay. "You haven't been to _any_?"

"Shhh!" hissed Harry crossly. He looked across at Ron's book, hoping his friend had found the right chapter this time; both he and Ron were further behind than Hermione and Seamus and he knew they had to put quill to parchment soon.

"You're unbelievable," tutted Hermione, turning back to her essay. "Can't be much fun for her, did you ever think about that?"

"I can't stand the woman!" retorted Harry. "And besides, she chose to do this, and interfere with our lives. I didn't. I mean; muggle studies homework as if we haven't got enough to do."

"I'm with you there mate," replied Ron, opening his book to the right page. "What?" he asked innocently to Hermione's accusing stare.

"But you have to go back," whispered Hermione to Harry, leaning forward. "Dumbledore trusts her. You need to carry on with the work…"

"Do I? Do I really Hermione? Who says that, eh?"

"Well you'll be letting down so many people if you don't," she replied, shaking her parchment and sitting back. Harry looked sidelong at Ron who handed Harry a spare piece of parchment. In turn, Harry handed Ron a quill.

"I'll just be glad when she's finished what she's doing, what she has to do," he added.

"No more muggle studies," commented Ron, a faraway tone to his voice.

"Come on Ron, you can't still like her with everything she's done!" Harry began to write on the parchment Ron had given him, leaving a space for the title.

"Done all what?"

"Caused all this upset; made Tonks and Remus Lupin split up; caused Sirius to get into trouble; went off with Remus and turned him down when she found out he was a werewolf – "

"Who told you that – " asked Hermione sharply, looking up again. Ron and Harry glanced at her quickly.

"Sirius mentioned it," Harry replied airily. "Said Remus was brokenhearted. And for what? For Snape?"

"You don't know that!" hissed Hermione, leaning forward again. "You know she stopped in his room before Christmas; you don't know anything else."

"It all seems the same to me," muttered Ron, flicking over a page and pointing to a paragraph subtitled "Changes in the Ministry: the Turning Point?"

"Well you would think that, wouldn't you, Ron!" snapped Hermione stiffly, getting to her feet and folding up her parchment. "You – " Hermione broke off and strode off huffily to the stairs that led to the girl's dormitory.

"What was all that about?" asked Ron, incredulously.

"Search me," shrugged Harry dismissively.

"Sirius told you she turned down Lupin?" repeated Ron, writing "The Ministry in Turmoil, 1933-4" on his parchment. "That's rough. Still, it can't be easy for a muggle – " he stopped when he saw Harry's expression.

"Tonks is never there now; she's always out and turns up late to Order meetings to avoid seeing him."

"Poor Lupin. He's got it bad from all angles. So you're still not going tonight?" Ron lowered his voice, aware that Seamus was making his way across the common room in their direction.

"Nope. She can sing for it. Besides, I think we've got enough to deal with; we haven't even started the transfiguration essay," he added loudly, nodding in the direction of Seamus as he walked past them, muttering to himself about cats and books and raising a hand in an absent-minded gesture.

"Harry, do you mind if I ask you something? Don't take it the wrong way or anything," Ron looked at Harry cautiously, who nodded.

"Have you ever thought she hasn't asked for all this? She could be at home, with her family being a teacher in a muggle school and not have to put up with all of this?" Harry stared at him impassively.

"If that's what she wanted, she could go back there; no-one's forcing her to be here." He wrote another couple of sentences about a wizard called Falkwright who was the main protagonist in the division in Government in 1932.

"And Draco and company? How come they've been leaving her alone these days?" Harry looked at him without saying anything.

"Come on, mate," said Ron, a little too loudly; Ginny looked up from her book and Neville Longbottom, who was descending from the dormitories, stared right at him.

"Come _on_," he repeated, pestering Harry for whatever it was he was keeping from him. "You know why, don't you?" Eventually, after he acknowledged Neville, who passed by their settee on his way out of the dormitory, Harry nodded.

"I've been following her," he confessed, looking sheepish at Ron's incredulous stare. "Just to make sure she's been doing what she says she has been doing. And I overheard Draco Malfoy telling Goyle and Crabbe that they had to leave her alone – father's orders."

"Oh," said Ron, dropping his quill through lack of concentration. "Well that means the Death Eaters know about her: I wonder if she knows that. I wonder whether they think she's a squib, or a muggle." He glanced at Harry who glowered at him.

"So anyway, what's the verdict? Is she doing what she said?" Harry nodded, almost disappointed.

"Then I think you should go back and work with her. Especially if you want her out of your life. We can carry on checking on her whereabouts, if you like," Ron nodded.

"We?"

"You don't think you're going to have all the adventures on your own, do you? And besides…" he trailed off, looking wistfully into the fire.

"Yes?"

"We've got an essay to finish," he concluded illogically. "Now hold that book still, will you?"

88888888

A week later and Harry had still not attended any meetings. Snape informed Cecilia that she should expect him on Wednesday evening directly after muggle studies but he had disappeared with the throng at the end of the lesson before she had a chance to catch him.

Cecilia had allowed Snape to take on the bulk of the research now; since the night that Tonks had floo'd her there was much that could not be done without his expertise although in real terms Cecilia remained in charge of the analysis that she was able to do, including the interpretation of results.

It was the results that Cecilia was looking over as she pulled her research book from her desk drawer now that the students had left for the day. Following the night that she and Snape had worked together they had indeed narrowed down the potions ingredients to a mere thirty or so that matched all the criteria they had set and Snape was in the process of brewing these into potions of several different proportions so as to fine-tune their effects.

Cecilia scanned the preliminary results of today's five that she was due to test, she noted that Snape had taken the trouble to check and record roughly their energy before and after introducing spells to them, good practice for they had discovered there was an array of different responses from zero to almost double the energy.

Looking towards the closed door, Cecilia pondered whether going to find Harry wasn't a good idea. Where she had agreed to remain professional Cecilia was sure that Harry would not be so unemotional especially considering his stony demeanour in her lessons since the start of term. Equally, she did not wish to run and complain to Snape or Dumbledore for that matter for if the Order were preparing for battle now they would have more to deal with than a non-attending Harry. And besides, however remote the possibility, there may have been a perfectly simple explanation as to why he has not attended.

Getting to her feet now, she glanced around at the scraps of parchment that littered the floor. It was amazing how more messy the fifth years were compared to say, the younger students and she began to pick up some of the pieces, throwing them into the roaring fire on her way towards the back of the classroom.

"There you are," Cecilia said, addressing the potions that Snape had left at the back of the classroom in cauldrons, lined up and neatly labelled. She had not been there when he'd left them; Cecilia supposed that it must have been in the later hours of the early morning when she had finally pushed herself to the limit and all around her was beginning to feel disjointed.

Reaching into the box underneath the table, Cecilia pulled out four glass stirring rods which she laid next to each cauldron and beside them, four glass pipettes. Then she lit the small wood burning stove which she had serendipitously found in the muggle studies cupboard and balanced the first cauldron on top, stirring it carefully and returning it to temperature.

Maybe Harry had quidditch practice to attend, thought Cecilia as she stirred. That would explain it. In her minds' eye she pictured the houses playing quidditch, outside in the pouring rain and roaring wind. Not that she'd attended any matches since before Christmas, nor many of the school functions come to that.

From her detailed, close up work they had narrowed it down to eight different potions made of a variety of ingredients which had passed the limits of acceptable energy level and wavelength that would sufficiently inhibit Harry's ability to do magic without permanently disabling him. That had come as a relief to Cecilia as she contemplated how long it would have actually taken her if they'd gone by her method.

Harry's safety had been the factor that concerned Cecilia the most. Where these eight potions passed the their criteria the last five blends has had had awful effects the potion had on the rats that Hagrid had supplied that week, along with his weekly dispatch of flobberworms, as had thirteen of the other potions which they had made during the previous weekend.

The first potion began to bubble on the wood stove and Cecilia removed it and put on the second, stirring the first one before sampling it. How similar this process felt to chemical analysis in the muggle world she thought wistfully. Except far fewer spells in a science lab and more reliable equipment.

And a bit more planning on what to do tomorrow, and maybe push to ten assays tonight, she thought to herself as Cecilia prepared the microscope plate. That would leave her up until 3am, half an hour longer than she normally worked.

If Cecilia was prepared to listen to the signals that were around her she would have realised that such a schedule was not at all healthy. Such hours spent on the potion work was causing her to flag in the lesson-planning and delivery stakes; too often she went unprepared and taught something off the top of her head through sheer necessity from the hours she was devoting to this and she was becoming increasingly withdrawn.

As much as she wanted to she couldn't get out of her mind the safety behind the potion; that was her main concern and it was troubling her. Could she really allow Harry to take the potion knowing it might harm him, even if he insisted?

It was actually nearer four o'clock when Cecilia finished and again she found herself lying in bed, her mind racing. What was there to do? Where would they go from here? Were they missing something? Was there something else she should be checking? Keep him safe…questions…thoughts…galloping around in her mind, keeping her from sleep.

Now, as the school bell tolled once to indicate a half hour, Cecilia found herself out of bed and down in the classroom. What good was it, she reasoned if her work was making her unable to sleep? Surely it was far better to be here, doing something more productive.

Through the silent castle she walked hurriedly; no students on the corridors now although she made it out of her room or the muggle studies classroom so rarely now that there was little difference.

How can we make it safer? What could they do to keep him from harm? What ingredients could be used for the antidote, for they had yet to consider that.

Opening the classroom door Cecilia walked across the floor, banging into a table as she enared the equipment.

"Who's there?" snapped a voice. "Lumos" it added and a glowing wand-tip illuminated Snape who appeared to be in the process of brewing another potion.

"Severus!" she breathed, her mind racing through the possibilities of who could be in her classroom at nearly 5 o'clock in the morning.

"You're up early," he commented, returning to the potion. "Cockroach essence, 7 solution," he added following her look. "This should reduce the energy to within 500 Joules and bring the wavelength into specification." Cecilia nodded, looking at the browny-green concoction as she proceeded to take out her research book from under the table.

"I got onto the eighth a few hours ago; yes. That'll probably do it," she added, thinking silently, how safe is it going to be? Will it annihilate _all_ the rats, as the potion before did?

"The eighth?" queried Snape as he began to crush up some more griffin claw. "Then you must have been up most of the night, which means you should _now be resting_, Cecilia if you are planning to teach tomorrow."

"It's just presentations again; nothing stressful," she conceded, handing him a beaker and reaching down for another to fill up the draught from the cauldron which Snape would need in a few moments' time.

"You spend far too much of your time with this," he intoned, almost accusingly.

"I need to make sure it's right. From all angles," she added, stirring the potion Snape had handed to her in exchange for the second beaker.

"You have concerns." Despite herself, Cecilia nodded. It wasn't as if she didn't want to share with Snape her worries about Harry's safety but rather she felt that by admitting it she was justifying her actions to an absent Sirius Black, who had consistently accused her of ignoring Harry's wellbeing in all of this.

"Do you wish to share them?" Snape prompted, taking the cauldron from her and adding the crushed cockroaches.

"If Voldermort is to use an Unforgivable curse on Harry, and it is to be "Avada Kedavra" we need to carry it out on the samples that have been successful. To check whether there are any adjustments we need to make." The words came tumbling out of Cecilia's mouth like a deluge of dam water, mocking any attempts that her brain was making to hinder their course.

For a few minutes Snape said nothing. He continued to stir the potion once he had handed Cecilia the next few ingredients to prepare for the next one.

"The spell you speak of is highly dangerous and of a high magical power. We must estimate its energy and account thereafter."

"Guess?!" said Cecilia aghast. "What have we been doing for almost a month! You've been working tirelessly with the ingredients and now what you suspect is going to happen might alter the efficacy of any potion we give to Harry! His cells alone could be damaged and we would not – "

"Excuse me," she said as her hind-brain kicked her frontal lobe, humility replacing incredulity in her voice now as it dropped low. "You're the expert here, Severus and I know you'll have taken it into consideration..." Slowly he turned to her, putting down the potion.

For a moment, Cecilia thought he was going to walk out; his face was impassive, blank. Just when she thought she could stand it no longer Snape took a step towards her and Cecilia realised she was shaking slightly.

"We should perform it. As you would have pointed out to me in the next few moments, it is merely a quantity of energy released over a very short amount of time." Cecilia felt herself nodding at Snape's flawless definition of power. "However it would not be safe for you to remain. I suggest you retire from the work for tonight, and refer to the results tomorrow."

"Not on your nelly!" Cecilia exclaimed, her expression causing Snape to look confused momentarily. "I mean, I'll risk it." Snape shook her head. "I intend to see with my own eyes the difference, Severus, even if I have to ask Dumbledore for him to carry it out."

Snape looked at her intently; his cold eyes penetrating her mind, it seemed. They remained locked into a gaze for what seemed like an eternity until finally Snape inclined his head very slightly.

"Very well," he intoned, turning back to the potion and handing it to her. "But you must do everything I tell you. Rebottle this and pour out a sample." He pointed it to the table. "Then place it on the table over there."

Cecilia nodded and did what he had asked, taking a small sample of the greenish-yellow liquid and placing it into a beaker on the first bench before them.

"Now get back," he ordered, looking at the potion. "Back!" he intoned loudly, turning and pointing at the back of the classroom, by the cupboard door. Cecilia shuffled back, leaning out to look towards the sample. Snape's eyes narrowed, scrutinising the potion before him, weighing it up and raising his wand.

"Do as I say!" he hissed, turning as Cecilia took another step out from the cupboard. "Will my meaning be plainer if I tell you that I cannot guarantee that an aftershock may rebound?" Cecilia nodded comprehendingly, shuffling back behind the door.

From the outline of the door Cecilia crouched, bending low. She could see the bottom of Snape's robe as it met the floor, showing the outline of his boots. Not the high boots he had worn to the ball, but ankle boots. And she saw Snape's arm fly back and his voice speak out.

"Avada Kedavra!" His arm left her sight as it flew forward and the room was irradiated with a flash of green light. Cecilia remained where she was as the light dimmed as quickly as it came and as she waited for Snape to give her permission to come from behind the door it struck her that the curse, though the worst known amongst the wizard world, was very, very quick.

"You can come over here," she heard Snape say to her. "Your microscope is still in on, I see," he added, as Cecilia rose. She walked across to the beaker that was still standing on the front desk and she approached it carefully.

"It…" Cecilia paused, looking at it again. "Can I pick it up?" she asked. Snape nodded.

"It's still the same colour and viscosity," she observed, peering into the beaker. Resisting the urge to stir it with her finger she carried it back to the table where the cauldrons were sitting and picked up a clean stirring rod and put it into the liquid.

"Yes, the same viscosity; the same consistency," she continued, glancing back at Snape as she concluded her observations, who was standing very still where he had been when he had cast the curse.

"No discernable difference. Severus?"

"No," he agreed, nodding slightly. "I expect not. Unless there are any bacteria, magical or otherwise that once resided in it. Test it," he said, turning to look at her now.

Cecilia added the sample carefully to a slide, adding a cover slip and placing it on the stage of the microscope. Snape crossed over and switched on the torch and assembled the slit to focus the light.

"390nm."

"As before," Snape commented. Cecilia turned to look at him.

"And now we need to feed this to one of the rats and repeat the process." It wasn't Cecilia who spoke however it was Snape.

Without saying a word, Cecilia crossed over to table and stooped carefully, taking out the cage that was underneath it. She placed it on top, looking at the small inhabitants formerly residents of Hagrid's hut, who were barely awake and wriggled in their disturbed sleep.

Undoing the top of the cage Cecilia reached inside and took out one of the medium sized ones and stroking it lengthways as it began to squirm in her grip. Crossing next to her, Snape took a sample of the potion that he had made half an hour ago directly from the cauldron using a glass pipette and held it above the rat's head as Cecilia stroked its throat, which made it open its jaws.

In went a few drops of potion to the semi-conscious rat, which swallowed and gnashed its jaws at the taste. Cecilia reached into the cage and took out another rat before walking over to the front of the bench now and placed he rat on the table before hurrying behind the store cupboard door.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Waiting for Snape's call, Cecilia considered the unspoken experiment. They would be able to compare the effects of the curse on a non-drugged rat to one that had egested the potion, and they would be able to compare the toxicity levels.

Two flashes of green light and Snape's call later and Cecilia was looking horrified at both laboratory rats who had died in the name of science; not the fact that they had to die (which of course was regrettable, she told herself sharply) but her shock came at the matter-of-factness, the offhandedness of it all.

Looking from one rat to another; both were definitely dead and the expression on their little rodent features indicated they hadn't even been expecting it. Which of course was the point of the curse; quick and brief, affording the victim as little time as possible out of the wizard's consideration and henceforth ignored. Could she really let a child go through all that, even if the potion would afford him protection?

"You still have doubts." From Snape's position standing in the same spot from where he cast the curse he spoke to Cecilia. She looked at him and nodded slowly.

"I – " she stopped, before sinking down onto the nearest bench. "My other main concern is that I cannot knowingly give Harry a potion that may cause him harm." She looked down at the flagstone floor and considered what she was saying. Did she mean she didn't want to continue now? Only Snape had told her Avada Kedavra was involved, however.

"What does your heart tell you about the research, Cecilia?" Snape moved from where he was standing and made his way over and sitting down next to her. "If you had a wish list of things that would give you confidence, what would be on it?" She turned to look at Snape, feeling tears prick in her eyes and he placed his hand on the back of hers gently.

"Well, if I were to be scientific about it," Cecilia began, not looking at Snape and trying not to think about his posture and expression when he'd performed the curse, "I would say that we need to use the Avada Kedavra curse on each sample combinations we've narrowed down. I would also like to see how a genetic sample of Voldermort as well as Lily Potter behaved in our tests in order to check what we have so far and validate the energy interactions with the spell."

Cecilia turned looked at Snape smiling wanly, as much as to say that she knew that she was actually asking for the near-impossible.

"Oh, and it would be an advantage if Harry actually made an appearance," she added dismissively.

"You mean you're telling me he did not remain after your lesson?" Snape's voice was low and gravelly and dropping her hand he got to his feet. "Why, the little fool…" his tone increased in volume and his outrage filled the classroom.

Just then a knock came at the door and Cecilia looked towards it as it opened, closing her mouth on what she was about to say to Snape. What was a student doing here at…she looked at her watch...seven am?

Before Cecilia had a chance to say anything, Hermione walked in and made her way towards Cecilia.

"Good," she breathed, taking a few uncertain glances at Snape, who was eyeing her sternly with his arms folded and Cecilia wondered whether she should explain Snape's presence. Again, before she had a chance to say anything, Hermione held out a few pages of parchment in her direction.

"I knew you usually got here early, Mrs Frobisher," Hermione continued, looking at Cecilia earnestly, "and I just wondered whether you have a moment to check over my presentation. There were a few details I wanted to get clear."

"If that is all Mrs Frobisher then I will leave you to assist your student." Snape continued to stare at Hermione before looking at Cecilia. She nodded.

Then the day creaked slowly by and five satisfactory lessons happened.

As Cecilia listened to the forty seventh presentation that day (the eighteenth on the subject of the British Royal family) her mind mulled over their work in the early hours and it heartened her that they had got so much done like they always did.

Clapping Colin Creevey's work on Lord Lichfield's photographic career before seeing the fourth year students out of the classroom she too took the initiative to retire to bed. If Snape preferred to work in the early hours of the morning then she would be there with him.

88888888

"You know why I can't hex her, Goyle!" snapped Draco Malfoy under his breath as they watched Cecilia Frobisher make her way down the main steps and proceed through the huge doors at the front of the school. "I must get the information I can and report what she is doing to Father."

A week had passed since Cecilia had chanced upon Snape in the muggle studies classroom, the night he had carried out the Unforgivable Curse on the potions and rats. Retiring to her room after teaching each night she'd taken to rising at one or two in the morning and making her way down to the classroom to work on the batches from the evening before.

As she proceeded into the corridor towards the teaching classrooms the three Slytherin students followed her at a safe distance.

"Well, huh," began Crabbe, looking gormlessly at Malfoy. "She 'aint got the book no more." Malfoy stared at him scathingly.

"Yeah, and do you know what she been up to in dere?" huffed Goyle.

"No!" snapped Malfoy, grabbing them both by the shoulder and dragging them in the direction of the corridor too. "Come on," he continued, "we know it's something to do with magic and potions, but not exactly _what_ it is…"

Entering the darkened muggle studies classroom Cecilia crossed the darkened room and pulled open the drawer underneath the table that contained yesterday's potions and taking out a box of Swan matches. Excellent she thought, giving the contents of the table a fleeting glance.

"…but I will find out. I _will_ be restored in my father's eyes. You know, he has barely even spoken to me about this but I overheard him talking to Mother about her. I'll be back in his favour when I find out what – down!" snapped Malfoy, pulling Crabbe and Goyle down below the window as Cecilia walked past it to the basket of logs that were in the corner of the room.

Soon the fire was roaring and Cecilia idly picked up the last of her research books, slipping the matches into her pocket as she scanned through the last page of it. Common household lacewing essence in a ratio of three to one with wolfsbane herb. That had just fallen out of specification, but had been energetically perfect and she and Snape had agreed he would blend another, half and half.

"She's sittin' there all alone!" whispered Crabbe, stabbing his finger in Cecilia's direction through the glass.

"Yeah," agreed Goyle. "We could get 'er and tell 'er she 'ad to tell us!" he growled inanely. Draco Malfoy stood back from the glow of light emanating from the window, folding his arms.

Snape had been surprised at her presence, pondered Cecilia as she got to her feet and took the potion codex from the shelf at the back of the classroom ready to refer to the ingredients in the new potion. And on Friday he had prepared work for her to get straight into and they managed to make and test three different blends before breakfast.

However her concerns about safety had not abated; time after time the potions had resulted in varying degrees of damage to the rats, both with and without the "Avada Kedavra" curse, which had caused her to worry. And as each day dawned and she made her way to the muggle studies classroom slow apprehension was beginning to build, like a dam of water filling drip-by-drip.

"We _could_," he whispered, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Do you know how much I've dreamed of that squib getting what she deserves; hanging around Hogwarts as if she owns the place; having Professor Snape eating out the palm of her hand…yes," he concluded, savouring the idea. "I would dearly love to give Mrs Elizabeth Mitchell what is coming to her _however _– " he put his hand up to stop the argument he anticipated from his cronies. "I have to be clever; devious. We'll follow her and keep an eye on what she's doing. It'll become obvious enough. That's the way we're going to do it," he added firmly, risking a glance in through the classroom window.

Concentrate, Cecilia told herself, surveying the equipment and deciding where to start first. Just then, a noise outside made her start.

"Idiot!" hissed Draco Malfoy, nudging Crabbe sharply in the ribs. "You clumsy idiot!" he repeated, peering through the window pane.

Was there someone there, thought Cecilia. She took a few steps across the firelight-bathed floor.

"Let's get out of here!" Along the corridor the Slytherin students ran, across the courtyard and back through the doors of Hogwarts. When they had got to the top of the first flight of stairs Draco led the way back towards their dormitory.

"So we're goin' back tomorrow?" Goyle gestured in the direction of the classrooms. Draco nodded, folding his arms as if to seal the plot.

No-one there, concluded Cecilia, closing the door on the empty corridor and she made her way back towards the three potions that were waiting for her. As she passed in front of the fire a chill crept over her, which made Cecilia stop and warm her by the fire.

The warmth crept up her legs and Cecilia glanced around the classroom as she indulged in the heat and her eyes rested on her last research book which she had left on the table by the fire.

Five more minutes, she conceded to her spoilt side, crossing over to the bench and pulling it closer to the fire. Five more minutes and then I'll get on, Cecilia decided, sitting down on the chair next to it and opening up the book. Five more…

…a "thump" made Cecilia jump. She opened her eyes, focusing on the dimming embers of the fire and swallowed before looking in the direction of the door then back to the fire as the school clock resonated three. Where was she, Cecilia thought to herself and she glanced at her research book which had fallen to the floor and awoken her.

With a sigh, Cecilia got to her feet and, picking up the research book and made her way steadily towards the back of classroom. Three o'clock. That meant Snape would soon be here. Now, where was she?

She surveyed the potions again as the cogs in her mind began to creak into action. Matches…matches…ah yes, the potion that Snape had adjusted, a three-to-one blend and another one-to-one…lacewing, she looked down at the potions codex, and wolfsbane…

"…a herb which historically was burned to ward off werewolves has in recent years been developed into a drug to prevent the werewolf in their human form from losing their mind upon transformation…" Cecilia read the passage again, shaking her head.

Werewolves? Hadn't Snape told her they didn't exist? However much of the book seemed to be based on fable and legend, she reminded herself, and probably wasn't all that useful.

Picking up the nearest cauldron she decanted a small portion into a flask, stirring it before setting it down and proceeding to the large cauldron that Dobby had filled with water that evening for her to start it warming in the fireplace. Now, once I get the one-to-one potion done we'll have more of an idea about –

A crash broke Cecilia's thoughts and she hurried towards the door of the classroom, opening it and looking out. Before her a figure lurched, down the corridor limping and staggering. It was Snape.

Once Cecilia realised this she went after him; his gait was awkward but he was still moving at a fair rate.

"Severus?" she called, hoping that he'd slow. Instead he waved his arm, clearly not wanting her there but Cecilia chased after him determinedly, following him into the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom.

In the darkness she saw him sag to his knees, sighing with exhaustion and looking at the floor and she hurried in his direction.

"Severus," she spoke, almost under her breath. His breathing was laboured and he gasped when she said his name.

Oh no, thought Cecilia as she moved towards him slowly, looking in shock at the injured figure of Severus Snape. Had he been coming back from Death Eater meetings like this every night? How often had this been happening?

Tentatively she approached the injured Snape, like an injured animal that might lash out. Carefully she dropped to her knees beside him, falling to his level. Slowly she raised her hand and put it on his shoulder. At her touch he flinched, but made no effort to repel her.

At length he turned his head, becurtained with mud-caked hair which, Cecilia noticed, matched his damaged and filthy clothes and her eyes met with his.

"I will mend," he said, willing her not to say anything. "The…disadvantage of being a double agent," he explained. Absently, Cecilia traced her hand down his left arm, pulling away sharply when she noticed his eyes narrow.

"The Dark Lord was particularly displeased with me this night, however…as I still have my life I must assume I am still of some use to him." Cecilia felt her mouth open in horror, and further still as Snape became more erect, leaning back on his ankles. A huge wound was gashed across his chest where his robe was ragged.

"Madam Pomfrey," said Cecilia slowly. "I'll get her. We can tell her I foolishly let out a Thestral from the stables and it attacked you." As she was beginning to rise to her feet, Snape turned in her direction again and took her by the wrist, pulling her back down.

"No." The word was firm and the intonation immovable. Cecilia felt the urge to argue but fought it.

"Then I'll treat you." He looked at her in amazement, but said nothing.

"Can you stand?" You'll have to perform the spells, and if you tell me the ingredients I'll prepare them." She waited for Snape to respond.

Eventually he nodded and clambered to his feet and Cecilia tried not to gasp aloud at what she saw: his right arm looked almost dislocated as he held it away from his torso and his chest injury that had seeping blood onto his clothing moments ago began to drip onto the floor. His thigh seemed to be slashed near the front and he was standing awkwardly on both feet as if his ankles had also sustained injury.

"Yes," he said, looking through his hair at Cecilia again which, as she looked harder now, was not coated in just mud but and dried blood clumping it together. From his robe he slipped his wand and he pointed it towards a table in the corner of the classroom.

"Accio murtlap," he breathed, "Accio pestle and mortar. Accio cauldron." The items he was calling for shot in through the Defence classroom door and landed on the table. Cecilia looked at them and back at Snape, knowing that an essence of murtlap would merely soothe his injuries, rather than promote healing.

Cecilia proceeded towards the items in the dimly lit classroom, wishing that she had the nerve to ask for permission to light the lamps and she felt his hand on her right forearm. She turned and realised he was on his knees again.

"Let me help you," she said softly.

Without looking at her, he nodded, loosening his grip and allowing his injured right arm to fall to his side.

Quickly Cecilia made her way to the table and returned with the ingredients and equipment and she began to pull the murtlap weed into smaller pieces before dropping it into the mortar and feelings of care and concern began to replace the shock and distress.

As she worked the plant with the pestle, Snape watched her carefully, pounding at it until it became a liquefied mush. Lifting it carefully, she took the small cauldron, which contained just about the right amount of water Cecilia noticed, and began to pour the murtlap into it.

"No." Snape's word made her stay her hand in the process of making the solution. She looked at him in confusion, but did not argue, laying down the mortar and pestle.

"I…do not deserve this." Snape looked at Cecilia carefully, his eyes firmly fixed on her. "You have chosen to do this. But – " Snape stopped, panting to regain his breath. "There is something you need to know. Tend me if you will thereafter if you believe I warrant your compassion…Cecilia…" he coughed and looked down, "…once you have heard it, decide."

Cecilia waited for him to continue, ignoring the nagging pain in her knees as she knelt before him. She reached forward to take his hand, but he pushed her away.

"I was in the employ of the Dark Lord during the last war." Snape spoke slowly, his words falling like ton blocks of granite into Cecilia's ears. "I knew that Pettigrew had broken the secret to Voldermort of the Potters' whereabouts. I had the opportunity to stop the two Death Eaters sent as scouts from finding them. I had the means to prevent the Dark Lord from killing the Potters. I did neither."

Suddenly, Snape stopped. He continued to stare at the floor and the chasm between them was filled with a vacuum. Neither of them spoke for a very long time.

Then Cecilia looked down and picked up the mortar. She poured the murtlap liquid into the cauldron, taking the rim and swirling it in circles. Then she got to her feet, taking the packet of matches she had in her pocket and striking the phosphorous tip against the rough surface of the fireplace.

Once she hung the small cauldron above the fire to reduce she crossed back over to Snape. He was still on his knees and Cecilia had a feeling that some of his blood was seeping onto the flagstones.

And then Cecilia Frobisher knelt before Snape again, about to touch him on the shoulder. He followed her gesture and she stopped, becoming the first person to understand Severus Snape.

With her left hand she reached up towards his face, pushing aside his hair. He regretted his actions. To such an extent he punished himself. Was punishing himself. To fill the lack of retribution he'd received when working with Dumbledore.

Snape's whole life had been punishment even for things he had _not _done. He did not know how to accept forgiveness.

Cecilia placed her lips lightly on his forehead before withdrawing and making her way over to the simmering essence.

She had to find a way to get the potion that would remove Voldermort right. Not just for Harry. She also had to do it for every wizard and muggle who had been and was being affected by Voldermort's single-minded pursuit of power.

She had to do it for Snape.

88888888

On the Saturday afternoon following Harry's non-attendance of her lessons, the muggle studies classroom door opened and Harry entered, closely followed by Snape and Dumbledore whose presence was clearly to demonstrate unity amongst adults.

Grumpily Harry apologised for not having attended before and asked her where he should begin. Then he spent a good two hours on a bright winter afternoon in helping her.

As they worked, Cecilia reflected that Harry had said nothing about the events at Christmas. He had also said very little about anything else although Cecilia put this down to a mixture of nerves and unease, and didn't press him.

What she did do, however was discuss science with him and even though Harry didn't seem particularly happy about it, he did engage in one or two comments about what Cecilia was informing him but the whole experience was, she noted disappointedly, quite unlike their working relationship before Christmas. And once the two hours was up he'd left hastily and as sullenly as he'd arrived.

Outside the door Ron stood, leaning against the wall with one foot against it, arms folded. As Harry shot through the door, he jumped forward.

"Harry," he exclaimed, chasing after Harry and to catch up with him. "How'd it go."

"Same as ever," said Harry, dully.

"That's a relief," said Ron as they made their way back towards the Gryffindor common room.

"A relief? It was awful!" Harry huffed as they made their way outside and crossed the courtyard to the main doors of the castle.

"But I thought you said – "

"It was terrible! I mean they're always awful."

"What happened?" Ron whispered as they passed a couple of Ravenclaw third years on the stairs.

"We did science. She talked about Paracelcus."

"Our Paracelcus?"

"Apparently he was a muggle who spoke about poisons and doses. I don't see how that could be anything but awful."

They made their way towards the "Fat Lady" portrait, their conversation lagging to nothing as they passed a few Gryffindors coming through the hole behind the portrait. One of them held aside the picture frame and Ron and Harry stepped through, ignoring the demands from the Fat Lady that they speak the password.

"Thanks," said Ron to the first year that was holding the frame.

"It was worse," muttered Harry as they made their way across the empty common room. "She's changed. More distant."

"Less lenient on you," said Ron accusingly.

"Less sympathetic…"

"She's making you work, more like it. I did tell you to go, and it would be over. Now Dumbledore and Snape are taking you, you've not got much choice." They proceeded up the stairs towards the dormitories.

"Changing the subject, I saw Angelina when I was waiting for you," said Ron, pushing open the boy's dormitory door. "Said we've got an extra hour quidditch practice tonight, to make up for us all being busy and missing odd practices." Harry nodded, throwing himself onto his bed and leaning over and pulling out his quidditch strip from underneath.

"We're to meet her in the common room at six, I think she wants to speak to us all."

"Good. I'll enjoy that after all that science."

"Science?" Behind them, Neville Longbottom crossed the floorboards of the dormitory, grinning at Ron.

"Don't you like science, Harry? I think her lessons are fine…"

"Yes, Neville, because she's been teaching about ecology, geology, plants and rocks. Herbology, really." Harry retrieved his shirt and robe, looking crestfallen at its condition.

"Forgot the wash, eh?" said Neville, conversationally.

"Yes, but they'll have to do. Got a marathon of a practice, haven't we?" Ron nodded in agreement and they got to their feet.

"See you, then," said Neville. "I'm going to the greenhouses; got some "Mimbelus" to take care of that Professor Sprout has managed to breed from my original."

"What do you think, Ron? Still find her appealing after what she did to Remus?" Harry threw his kit under his arm and watched as Ron did the same, noting that Ron had forgotten wash-day too.

"I mean, she struts around here…"

…they made their way back down the stairs and into the common room…

"…full of it…" there were a few members of the quidditch team milling around now.

"Shshsh!" hissed Ron as they stepped across the floor. One or two of the team noticed them and waved. Ron waved back.

"I don't care if people hear," said Harry defiantly. "She deserves it."

"Does she?" whispered Ron urgently as Angelina Johnson approached them with what looked like a list of key points she wanted to address before they got onto the pitch. "She deserves grief from Malfoy, does she? Thanks," he added to their quidditch Captain, as he took a piece of parchment from her hands.

"She's not getting any," whispered back Harry.

"But that's not to say they won't. If Malfoy's keen on winning favour back with his father and the Death Eaters then there's no telling what he might do."

"Good evening," boomed Angelina, who was standing on an arm chair as a platform so the Gryffindor quidditch team could see her. "Thank you for coming. Now I know we have, for one reason or another, not had a full team. McGonagall's been setting some pretty gruesome essays – "

"Hear hear," agreed someone near the front.

"Horrific!" shouted Fred Weasley, nodding at his brother.

"Well, grief from me," whispered Harry. Ron took his eyes off Angelina and stared at him, frowning in incomprehension. "If she still intends on getting a sample of mum to use for her…weird science…then I'm going to stop her."

"…got to keep the a tight midfield to drive the opposition back to their hoops…" Angelina was looking at the quidditch team and reserves as she spoke, addressing each position as she went through her list.

"Who told you she was going to do that – " Ron stopped, rolling his eyes. "Sirius." Harry said nothing.

"…the snitch, Harry…" both Ron and Harry broke their stare and looked at Angelina. "If we're down points you need to make sure you prevent the opposition from getting it _without_ catching it yourself…"

Harry nodded lamely, trying to look as if he was taking in what his captain was telling him as a feeling of self-defence began to grow in his stomach. Why _shouldn't_ he believe Sirius? He'd never had any reason to distrust him.

"Well that explains why you completely ignored her during this morning's lesson. And I suppose you speak to him over there when we're all in bed?" Ron nodded towards the fireplace, grumpily. Even though Harry had agreed that Ron could go with him, he had still woken on several evenings to find Harry's bed empty and his invisibility cloak gone. "What else has he been telling you?"

"That they were close at the Ball, she and Snape," said Harry, hissing sharply, " and that he'd been telling her things about my family…"

"…listening at the back!" Ron looked up at Angelina, who nodded at their transgression and frowned.

"…so we really must ensure that our moves are tighter, crisper, and more adept. None of this raggedy syncopation. Synchronisation; that's the key…"

"You really are up yourself Harry," Ron continued, glancing every so often in the direction of Johnson. "She's here doing what she can, to stop Voldermort in the only way she knows how. And with Dumbledore's approval." He stopped as the gathered quidditch team began to move in the direction of the door.

"And what do you know about it?" said Harry, darkly as they headed towards the back of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"You act like she has come here just to make your life difficult!" insisted Ron in a whisper, holding the frame for Harry, as the first year had done for them on their way in.

"Hasn't she?" Harry glared at Ron.

"…now, before we get onto the quidditch pitch, I will warn you that I will be making notes about out performance tonight…" Angelina Johnson stopped in front of the huge entrance doors, turning to address the team again.

"And you think talking to Sirius is going to help?"

"I've got to talk to _someone_, Ron." Harry shook his head as they proceeded down the steps to the entrance hall before the Great Hall. "Our spying on her every move isn't going to change anything! Not the fact she is here – "

"…constructive criticism, that's all…" added Angelina, waiting for the doors to open themselves.

" – and not the fact that that potion's going to ruin my life."

88888888

The fifth year Muggle Studies class was going relatively well, considering it was the last lesson on Wednesday. Cecilia had retired to the back of the classroom, watching Susan Bones present her information about the geography of Britain. Susan had chosen to discuss the choice of concrete as a building material in the 1960s, which turned out to be a surprisingly interesting topic in the end. At least the last few fifth year lessons had not been too taxing for her; it had taken almost a week for each student to present their work.

And now, as Susan took a bow, having answered an array of questions about the use of limestone in the process, and its impact on the landscape through mining by muggles, a grey cloud of worry descended over Cecilia. All of the students present had presented their work now and as some of them were missing that lesson (a surprising number as a regular occurrence on a Wednesday afternoon) and now, with half of the lesson remaining and no back up work it was up to her to provide some work.

"Excellent, excellent," Cecilia congratulated Susan as she returned to her seat, "and to you, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, and Mr Weasley also." She looked at the students in the class again as she passed them and made her way back to the front. At least by assessing their communication skills she wasn't ignoring basic grammar and literacy. Harris, her old mentor, would have been proud at her cross-curricular emphasis.

"Overall, an excellent set of presentations which, by my reckoning, has left us with – " the school clock tolled four sonorations, " – half an hour left of the lesson. Now," Cecilia surveyed the glum faces staring back at her and sighed inwardly, hoping this would enliven them. "We are due to start muggle history again, the twentieth century next week, which links neatly into the work you covered in the history of magic at the end of last term. While I wait for Professor Binns to enlighten me of the exact content I'll give you a choice as to what you would like to do with the rest of this lesson."

The students did not so much stir at her words; many of them remained glum faced; Pavarti and Padma Patil were examining each others' fingernails; Ron was fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve; Harry wasn't even looking at her, he was looking at the floor, idly playing with his wand. Only Hermione seemed the slightest bit interested and even she had her head rested in the V shape of her hands.

"So, we can either play some muggle board games and puzzles from the cupboard – " there were a few nods at this suggestion, "or – "

Cecilia stopped as the class began to stir; a few of them began to chat under their breaths and she waited until the noise had dropped lower.

"Or?" shouted out Hermione, her hand raised. Cecilia looked at her and nodded.

"Okay, okay," she said, calling their attention. "Yes, there is an "or"," she acknowledged Hermione. "Or, I could discuss some cutting edge work that has been undertaken very recently regarding energy in science and magic."

All at once the noise stopped dead, as if the particles had been sucked out of the room and Cecilia was standing now before her class in a vacuum. One or two of them had stopped mid-action; Padma Patil was looking up from her azure nails, her hands stuck out before her from where she had been admiring them a few seconds ago. Hermione and Ron looked at her knowingly and Hermione was smiling; long had the young witch been seeking the details of her research. And Harry…

Harry had frozen in mid-roll of his wand in his palm, his thumb preventing it from falling to the floor and he was staring firmly at the grey flagstones. Cecilia could see what part of the side of his face that was not obscured by long hair grow pale, as did the outline of his ear.

"Energy in science and magic?" asked Ernie Macmillan, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a hot knife through butter. "Can you explain, Mrs Frobisher?" Cecilia nodded.

"Before I do, and with twenty five minutes of the lesson to go, it would not be fair if I didn't get you to vote on what you'd like to do. So," she asked brightly, acutely aware that Harry had moved from his disinterested position and was now staring at her icily. "Muggle games…" a few people raised their hands tentatively, looking at one another uncertainly, "or energy…" far more put up their hands now; Ron, Justin, Padma. Hermione's hand was bolt upright, like a flagpole indicating her choice.

"Energy then," Cecilia continued. "Energy in science and magic." She watched as more of them gave each other uncertain looks and she proceeded quickly. "Right, before we start and I discuss the link, a short question. Ron, would you kindly give out one sheet of paper to each student, and a pen?" He nodded briefly and proceeded to her desk where a pile of lined A4 paper courtesy of her old school sat, with a box of the finest Bic biros that Woolworths could sell her almost a year ago.

"An opening question," she continued as Ron hurried to dish out the stationary. "What is energy?" A few hands raised instantly, including Ernie and Hermione. "OK, some of you know. I don't want you to tell me, what I want you to do is talk to the person next to you about your ideas, then we'll hear them."

Almost immediately, the students split into pairs, speaking rapidly about the question; it was a technique that they recognised and they fell into the pattern quickly. Cecilia began to circulate amongst them as they spoke, to gauge their answers. Only Harry, two rows from the front did not turn to Ron. he continued to stare at her, following her around the classroom with his eyes.

"…something to do with power…"

"…in food? I remember when we did this…"

"…light is energy. Lightbulbs!" exclaimed Padma to her sister, nudging Parvati. "Like what Gran used to buy…"

Cecilia made her way through the tables before stopping to have a conversation with Hermione and Justin. Their discussion seemed particularly in-depth and had something to do with movement and force: it was very good and Cecilia marvelled again at Hermione's ability to recall almost anything she had learned before.

"Harry!" whispered Ron, nudging his friend sharply as Cecilia stepped past them. "Come on, mate!"

"Right, OK," called Cecilia to the class. "Let's hear some, shall we?"

She took a variety of responses from the class, noting key ideas on the swivel blackboard she'd pulled out of the muggle studies office to make room for their research equipment.

"So, we've got some ideas; some very good ideas," she added, nodding at her class.

"Can we hear about the work now, Mrs Frobisher?" pressed Hermione, her hand raised again. "The development," she corrected. Cecilia nodded slowly.

"Work has been done very recently," she picked up the self-updating muggle text books from the desk, "that energy and magic are related. Few details are available but what I am about to share with you. Hermione," she turned to her and smiled. Hermione smiled back.

"You mentioned that energy was to do with moving things. Would you like to explain?"

"When we move and walk, or cause other things to move; there is energy involved or we wouldn't be able to do those things." Hermione had got to her feet and was addressing the class matter-of-factly.

"These are the things we do as a matter of course? Like walking?" Cecilia addressed Hermione nodded.

"OK, put your pens flat on the desk." One or two of the students looked at each other doubtfully, laying the biros down nevertheless.

"Right, move the pen." A few frowns now, and many of the students picked up their pens, pushing them across their desks or allowing them to drop on the floor."

"Good, good," said Cecilia encouragingly, noticing that Harry had done neither of the things she'd asked. "Now, as we know there's more than one way we could have done that. Or should I say, you. Harry, you didn't take part last time; could you tell me how else you, as wizards, could have moved the pen?"

Harry said nothing. He stared back at Cecilia now, his gaze growing more fixed, gripping his wand in his right hand.

"Anyone?" she asked, feeling a slight knot of tension in her stomach. "Yes, Ernie?"

"We could use magic. We could use "Accio" for example, to move the pen to our hand by magic." He smiled and Cecilia nodded.

"Okay, all of you, get out your wands, and use energy to make the pens come to you the wizard way."

Shrieks of delight accompanied her request for them to use their wands for it happened so rarely in muggle studies lessons. Some of the students were on their feet using magic to make their pens hover in mid-air. Some were beckoning them or making them land on other students' desks.

"…wingardium leviosa…"

"…accio…"

"…reparo…" said Ron as he trod on his biro that he had knocked on the floor from the last time. "…accio…"

"Good," declared Cecilia. "Okay, take your seats please. Okay," she looked at the students again. "Now, you've all made the pens move with energy, but in two different ways. From the definitions you've given, would you agree with me that we've used energy?" There were mutters and low level chattering from the students.

"Yes, Neville..?"

"Er, yes," he said uncertainly. "We've had to use energy to move it, so by what we've said, the spells contained energy to move it – "

As he spoke, the whispers and low level noise grew until the students were talking at full volume.

"…but energy…"

"…we've not thought of it like that…"

"…is it really energy? Do spells have energy…?"

"Er, Mrs Frobisher," Cecilia heard Hermione call above the rest. "Could you tell us some more detail about the energy in spells?" Almost at once, the din began to ebb and Cecilia found herself in front of a score of students that were unnervingly silent.

"Well, there has been some work done into this recently with respect to the genetics of wizards and your ability to convert useful energy from the environment in your cells." She glanced round the classroom at the silent students. "Food energy is what everyone can use, even muggles and so in effect magical ability can be determined by studying wizard genetics…" Cecilia trailed off, her voice growing uncertain as her eyes became drawn to an ever rising Harry, who was straightening his knees and getting to his feet. "Yes, Harry. Is there something you wish to contribute?"

There was a pause, a very long one. A feeling as if someone had poured ice-cold water down her back made Cecilia shudder as she watched the young wizard before her.

"H-Harry," she tried, watching carefully as he fixed her with a furious glare. "What would you like to say…?" But the last few words of her sentence she mouthed silently for Harry had flicked his wand.

"Silencio!"

"Shut up!" he reiterated, taking a few more steps towards her. "_Shut_ _up_! I've had it up to _here_ with you wittering on about energy and magic! Like it's all alright and like taking a piece of mum is normal!" He indicated the top of his head as Cecilia stood before her class in literally mute horrifying terror. She mouthed a few words but still none were heard.

"Now _I'm _going to speak," he continued, taking a few more steps towards her. "Not much fun being speechless Mrs Frobisher." It wasn't a question.

Cecilia took a few steps back in blind panic, dimly aware of her students behind him, some standing and moving around, some gasping and muttering. She couldn't speak and Harry was approaching her with his wand aloft. As she bumped into the table, the pile of paper cascading to the floor, she stopped. Harry took another step towards her and Cecilia felt herself shaking.

"You were out to get me, and my mum! Don't think I don't know! You standing there, all condescending and showy! You have no right – " Harry's eyes narrowed and he flicked his wand ever-so-slightly in the direction of her throat.

"Expelliarmus!"

Suddenly Harry's wand shot out of his hand and he turned quickly to find Ron standing behind him. He pushed Harry roughly to one side. Cecilia could see the students bunching round them and she put her hand to her mouth in embarrassment at her inability to speak.

"Mrs Frobisher!" gasped Hermione walking towards her, holding aloft her wand. Cecilia felt herself pushing her hands forward as a guard between her and Hermione.

"…audio…" she flicked her wand towards Cecilia, who looked in panic at her. "You can speak again," Hermione interpreted, glaring mightily at Harry who Ron had pinned against the classroom wall. Swallowing uneasily and pushing her fear down inside her, Cecilia took a step forward.

"…c…class….dismissed…" she managed, looking past the students and to the door. "…dismissed," she repeated. But instead of waiting for them to leave, Cecilia walked round the stunned throng and walked towards it.

Behind her action happened. Ron loosed his grip of Harry, who took a step forward and retrieved his wand. He held it aloft as other students approached them aiming a curse at the door (which missed) before ducking out of Ron's grasp.

"Deflecto!" The vector of the curse was interrupted. It hit the row of books and causing them to explode from the shelf, thumping noisily to the floor.

Cecilia threw the door open against the wall. And then closed it again, exhaling slowly. She'd had it with running from belligerent wizards with mighty spells.

Turning to face her class, who were mostly crowded round Hermione, she addressed Harry who had been stopped in his tracks again by Ron.

"You obviously have some very strong feelings about certain things." Her voice was low and calm. She forced it to be unbroken and she looked at Harry's hostile expression without emotion. Then she looked at the rest of the class.

"Class dismissed," she repeated, stepping forward from the door. Many of the students looked at her and there were low mutters, one or two glancing in her direction. Cecilia nodded in their direction slightly, without taking her full attention from Harry.

There were still some students crowded round Harry. Ron was blocking his path bodily; Neville, Seamus and Hermione were standing round Harry, their wands raised in his direction.

"Dismissed," she repeated.

The students looked between themselves and Seamus took a few steps away from Harry, pulling Neville with him. Neville gave him an indignant look and remained where he was.

"If you're sure you can handle the mad bugger Mrs Frobisher," Seamus commented on his way to the door and Cecilia looked between Neville, Ron and Hermione who were still standing there. Neville lowered his wand, walking passed Harry and throwing him a look before he too proceeded through the door, saying nothing.

"You too." Her mouth was beginning to dry up as she glanced at Ron and Hermione, registering that Harry still had his wand raised in her direction with a murderous look in his eyes. Both students looked at her without saying anything and it was clear that they had no intention of going anywhere.

"Harry, continue," Cecilia said as calmly as she could, ignoring Ron and Hermione's non-compliance.

Barely as the parched, cracked words had leave her mouth Harry had launched into a full tirade, all the pent-up frustrations, annoyances and shame he had been feeling came tumbling out as bitter words.

"Sirius was miserable all Christmas after what you did, you and Remus! Taking him off Tonks and shagging him!" he began, poking his wand in her direction.

"Harry!" exclaimed Ron, shooting his friend a look of shock.

"What do you have to say about that, eh?" Cecilia felt her face flush but she said nothing.

"Come on!" he raged furiously. "Answer me!"

"I'm not arguing with you, Harry," she replied. "Why don't you calm down and we can talk about this sensibly?" But at her words, Harry broke away from Ron's grasp and stormed towards her, wand raised. Cecilia stood motionless, refusing to react.

"You can't tell me what to do," he continued, coming within a foot of her. "You think just because you work with Snivellus Snape you can act like him? You think that he keeps you safe? Because believe me you're wrong!"

Cecilia felt her stomach slip down more into her legs. She didn't want to move from her spot for if she did, she imagined it would fall out through her feet. Her brain raced through what she could say, even a rebuke for insulting Snape in absentia, but nothing seemed appropriate.

"I'm going to get McGonagall!" declared Hermione, dashing past them. Harry gave her no more than a twitch of his head before glaring aggressively at Cecilia again, reangling his wand in her direction.

"Harry," she tried again, the confidence in her voice a mere shadow of what it had been a few moments ago.

"Sirius was right: you are just an ignorant muggle and you're getting more and more like Snape every day! I'm tired of all this; of you and Snape asking me question after question, making me perform spell after spell! He must really be good in bed for you to stick up for him like you do!" He ignored her shocked expression, and the one playing on Ron's features, before continuing.

"He's still a Death Eater you know and he's going to turn you in to Voldermort as soon as the weapon is finished! Did you know that? That's why Draco Malfoy and the rest of them haven't been bothered with you. They've been warned – "

"Harry!" shouted Ron at his friend and marching over to them. His face was bright red and he was clearly angry with Harry. "That's enough! Look mate, we can see you're upset – "

"Keep out of this, Ron," Harry snapped. "We all know you fancy her." Ron's face turned almost purple with embarrassment and he sagged visibly.

"Yeah. You're right, I _did_." He glanced at Cecilia, and then back at Harry. "And Mrs Frobisher's got your best interests at heart, mate. Surely her doing what she's doing's going to stop You-Know-Who in the long run?"

"Cecilia, eh?" he sneered, turning back and facing Ron. "You don't know what its been like…the questions…you weren't there…in the graveyard…when Cedric…and Cho, _she _makes me remember them all the time, a stupid muggle – " Harry stabbed his wand back towards Cecilia.

She waited for Harry to make the next move.

"Everyone in the Order thinks it's horrible that you want some of my mother. It's no wonder you're not welcome there any more. Sirius hates you…we all do…I wish you'd just disappear! I wish Sirius _had _managed to kill you in the summer or at Christmas then you wouldn't be here, ruining our lives! Wizards have died because of you to keep you safe and for what…?" his voice trailed off and he glowered.

"No!" Ron sprang forward to pull Harry's wand from his hand as he raised his wand. Cecilia took a few steps to her left to avoid the full force of the spell which shot past her now as Ron threw himself at Harry and they began to fight.

The beam hit the window frame and rebounded back towards Cecilia, skimming past her cheek and set fire to the books that had fallen to the floor by the fireplace from Harry's first spell. Both boys looked up from their fight in response to Cecilia's sharp shrill shriek.

A small burn mark shone on her cheek and Cecilia raised a hand to find that some of her hair had been burned away near her ear. Now was the time to run from belligerent wizards.

Without saying a word Cecilia opened the door of the classroom. The class were still crowded in the corridors as she walked slowly and steadily down the corridor towards the courtyard

…towards the courtyard, her mind worked on…through the doors to the castle…with the Great Hall in front of her and the steps...

"Mrs Frobisher!" she heard someone shout.

…up the steps she would go…

"Mrs Frobisher…"

…and the next flight…

"Hermione's gone to get Professor McGonagall…"

…to the teachers' quarters…

Behind her Harry, who had obviously won his fight with Ron followed her and began to chase after her, shouting As she passed, one or two of the other classroom doors began to open as students and teachers, disturbed by the noise that had come from the Muggle Studies classroom pressed their faces against windows and opened doors.

…it had to be done…

"Stop!" Harry shouted at her.

…she had to make it safe for him…

Cecilia continued to walk.

…it was up to her alone…

"Misborn!"

The word reverberated down the corridor. Cecilia stopped in her tracks.

"You – are – misborn!"

Without turning to look over her shoulder Cecilia ran out of the corridor and across the windswept courtyard.

88888888

Throwing the door of her room open, Cecilia's mind began to race. She had to get out fast…out of Hogwarts Castle.

Looking about her, Cecilia's eyes caught the desk on which lay some of her personal belongings; jewellery, a pair of socks, hairbrush…

She pulled open the second drawer of the desk and searched for her money, her muggle money which she had put there almost a month ago, throwing handfuls of other things onto the desk as she searched. Once she had it, she thrust it into the bottom of her smaller bag into which she also threw a pair of jeans, a jumper and a change of underwear.

Next she turned to her chemicals which were under the desk and seized three bottles of solvents knocking the stack of flasks onto the floor. She stepped over the broken shards which the flasks had become and grabbed her latest notebook and a pen from the desk, thrusting them into the bag too.

Got to go, she reminded herself sharply. No time to tidy. Can't take everything. Someone would be here looking for her any minute…

Without looking back, Cecilia threw the bag over her shoulder and walked hastily through the door, turning left and throwing the door behind her.

It's in London, she thought desperately as she hurried towards the door to the secret passage next to the staffroom at the end of the corridor. North London, near the Green Lane tube line.

Cecilia opened the door and hurried down the steps, narrowly missing the ghost of Professor Binns, who passed straight through the door above. Godric's Hollow. London. If she could get to a public library, tomorrow...

Catching her breath and quickening her pace she got to the bottom of the steps and through the dark malodorous passage that led out of the grounds. The mist was beginning to fall as she surveyed the landscape. London. London…how was she to get to London…?

…two hours later and the tiny branchline station five miles away at Dovetown was beginning to come into view. Darkness was falling fast as Cecilia walked, wearier now but still resolute and her mind raced through strategies and plans for how she would get to London when she was so far away.

How glad she was that she had overheard Padma and Parvati Patil mentioning they had got to their muggle grandmother's from Dovetown or she would probably be at Hogsmeade station wasting her time trying to board the Hogwarts Express.

Wind from the cold February weather whipped as the flickering lights illuminated the outline of the building ahead of her and Cecilia realised that, being probably an unmanned station it was likely that although it was only half past five she had missed any trains that evening that went to any major towns.

Underfoot the hard earth changed to gravel and Cecilia hoisted her bag up her shoulder as she searched the station for where the timetable information would tell her whether she would actually be spending the evening in the station waiting room.

She scanned the timetables quickly; looking for towns that she knew would have direct trains to London and behind her ribs Cecilia's heart raced as she read through the times.

...Popelwell…last train 3.45pm…Disbrough…4.40…at a turn Cecilia's hopes were quickly raised and then dashed…Firthorpe…6.15…but only on Tuesdays and Thursdays….

Cecilia's bag fell from her arm as her search became more frantic; her hopes slowly ebbing that she would be able to leave that evening now.

"Can I help you, dear?" The voice behind her made Cecilia jump and she turned suddenly to see a middle-aged woman to her left, leaning out of the door and looking at her curiously. "Only I'm due to be leaving any time now and there'll be no-one here after 6."

"I need to get to a main town: Middlesborough; Leeds; Huddersfield…somewhere like that," she began, trailing off uncertainly; a shrill tone of mild panic entering her voice. "What trains are still to leave tonight?"

The woman smiled kindly at Cecilia, beckoning her towards the inside of the station.

"Come on in and we'll have a look," replied the woman kindly, smiling at Cecilia as she beckoned her towards the inside of the station. "You look half frozen, young lady. You're not from round here, are you?" she added, in a thick Geordie accent.

"Now," she continued, taking Cecilia's silence as a no and pushing her huge, plastic-framed spectacles up her nose, "oh, you've missed the Genthorpe one; that one would have taken you straight to Manchester and you could have got a train from there…oh – " she stopped, looking at Cecilia.

"Well, you've got a choice. There's one that goes directly to the Newcastle line which, if you get there this evening you'll be able to travel to London later this evening. That doesn't leave till after I've gone, at 6.20. Otherwise," she glanced back down, "it's down to Blyth, which'll take you to Durham, and you can catch one from there. That's going to be here in ten minutes." Cecilia nodded, taking in the information and the woman folded her arms.

Up until the woman left, Cecilia sat and talked with her in a normal conversation. She chatted with Doreen about recent news events which Cecilia had been fortunate to read about in the muggle studies books that morning, such as the unpopularity of the Government and how they would probably be out in that years' election.

As Doreen swept the small ticket office, Cecilia told Doreen she was working away from home…and they began to talk…how much petrol was these days and why she hadn't got a car any more…how Doreen's son had moved to Lancaster with a dreadful girl who was no good for him…about the weather there…

…and once Doreen had recorded the arrival and subsequent departure of the Blyth train…would her pension stretch when she retired in five years' time and how she and her husband never thought to save privately, because it wasn't considered necessary thirty years ago…

What struck Cecilia as she engaged in the conversation was how calming talking about such mundane, such ordinary things were…the weather of late as Doreen cashed up the till; the fact that stamps had gone up as she switched off the timetable lights with the switches behind the counter, whether she would be all right on her own waiting for the Newcastle train and when Doreen showed her out of the office at 6 o'clock onto a dark and wintry platform that Cecilia was sure of the location of the nearest phone box in case it didn't come…

Cecilia watched Doreen cross the platform and walk down the path that she had walked upon herself to get to the station three-quarters of an hour ago, feeling slightly refreshed at the commonplace conversation she had engaged in. But at the back of her mind a glow of inner determination was still lodged which began to illuminate as the light of the train bathed the track as it approached.

Ticket in hand, Cecilia climbed aboard the train alone, a modern diesel decorated with advertising and information posters. She sat on the bright striped seats in the nearest carriage which was deserted, slinging bag underneath her chair and settling down as the train got under way.

The lights in the carriage dimmed as they moved away from Dovetown station and Cecilia relaxed into her chair. But could not rest. She had justified her departure in her mind to everyone involved in the research. Except one.

Opening her bag quickly, Cecilia looked for some paper so she could write Snape a letter, explaining why she had to go. It would be lame, she knew, and didn't make up for her departure. She could buy some stamps when she got to Newcastle station; it would get there if it was addressed correctly.

A pen, she thought, throwing her hand into her bag and breathing a sigh of relief moments later when a blue Bic biro came to hand. Good, Cecilia thought, for she was beginning to think she'd would have to upend her bag and sort through her belongings. Now some paper.

She scrabbled around inside the bag again, her hand meeting an elastic band, hairbrush, her compact…anything other than paper. Eventually she her hand met something papery which she pulled out. It was the book that Severus had given her when he first accompanied her back home; the notebook emblazoned with the Slytherin House insignia.

Opening it quickly, Cecilia's mind flicked through what she wanted to say.

"Severus, (she wrote on the second to back page)

The decision to leave Hogwarts was not an easy one. I believe in what I am about to do. Please don't try to find me; I have to do this alone. I take sole blame for this and it should go on record that I alone have done this for our research. I also intend to visit home and I beg you not to follow me. Do not blame Harry. Do not doubt that I will return as I have my compact.

Cecilia"

As the words faded to nothing on the page before her, Cecilia slid the Slytherin notebook and biro back into her bag, leaning her head against the headrest of the seat and watched the darkness pass by the window.

88888888


	21. The Die is Cast

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"I just can't believe you sometimes, Harry!"

Ron, Harry and Hermione sat in Professor McGonagall's office. Rain beat against the windows at infrequent moments, peppering the glass with small, hard raindrops.

"That was a horrible thing you did," Ron added, folding his arms.

"Just because you fancy her, Ron," replied Harry, bitterly and he folded his arms and looked at the window. At the very least he was here, and not out in the rain being soaked to death practicing quidditch.

"No," said Hermione severely. "It was a horrible to thing to say, Harry. I don't know whether you've noticed how bad she's been looking, working night after night. It's not just you who can observe Mrs Frobisher," she added, scorning Harry's look of surprise.

Following his outburst towards Cecilia Frobisher in front of not only the muggle studies class, but other classes in adjacent classrooms, Professor McGonagall had hurried down to uproar in the corridor. Leaving other teachers to deal with the students, she took Harry, Ron and Hermione to her office in Gryffindor tower amidst protests and objections and instructing them to remain before swishing out of her office.

"Where do you think she's gone?" asked Hermione, looking into the warming, mesmerising fire as she spoke. Both Ron and Harry turned to look at her.

"Home."

"To see Dumbledore."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and, as suddenly, turned away from one another.

"Sirius put him up to it." Ron turned his head and spoke to Hermione. "Sirius has been filling his mind with his hatred. That's why he did it."

"I wanted her out of my life," shot back Harry hotly, turning back and looking at his best friend before staring furiously at the rain on the pane of glass. "Especially after what she'd done," he muttered sullenly.

"And what do you think she did?" Ron asked quietly.

"Took Lupin off Tonks," said Harry, as if reading from an internal list. "Pried about for information about my family. Raided Sirius's library. _Slept _with Lupin," he turned and looked at his friends, his expression beseeching. "Slept with _Snape_; ditched Lupin…and is a thoroughly horrible person…"

Hermione turned from the fireplace and walked across to Harry, causing him to stop.

"And you're sure that everything you've just said is fact?" Harry nodded his head slowly.

"Lupin left her after four days at Christmastime," said Hermione bluntly. "He didn't tell her why or anything. I asked McGonagall," she added, answering Harry's unspoken question.

"Well that makes sense!" exclaimed Ron in realisation. "He turned up at Grimmauld Place then, didn't he? And it was full moon a couple of days after." He looked at Hermione and frowned. "But why would the McGonagall tell you that?"

"I asked her. I explained I was concerned about Mrs Frobisher. Apparently, Lupin just went – "

"And how long have you known this?" Harry asked accusingly. Hermione didn't answer. Instead she took a seat by Professor McGonagall's desk and folded her arms.

"Does it matter? I told you about rumours. Would you have believed me?"

"But Sirius said – " Harry began, then fell silent under the furious look Ron was giving him.

"We know what Sirius said! So does half the school by now! I think he's gone mad, cooped up in Grimmauld Place for so long. He knows what we're up against, and you in particular and he's still so against her!" He glared at Harry before folding his arms again.

"I just don't think I want to be there when he loses another friend because of her prying," replied Harry quietly, resuming his spot by the window.

"I don't know exactly what you and Sirius have been talking about Harry, but if you were spying of Cecilia's personal life I think that's pretty low." Hermione's cool voice of reason drifted through the office and she gazed towards the fire again.

"He asked me to tell him what she was doing!" Harry exclaimed loudly.

"And you did?" Ron retorted. "You said you were going to check on her work, to make sure it was safe for you! Heaven's above, Harry, you know what Sirius is like when he has a grudge." Before Harry had a chance to reply, Hermione looked at him.

"And called her misborn. You threatened her!" Hermione's face was a picture of accusation.

"I didn't threaten her!"

"You called her misborn." Ron repeated Hermione's words. "That's about as big a threat as you can get, mate."

"Misborn? I don't understand…"

"Misborn," said Hermione slowly, getting to her feet, "imagine Malfoy calling me a mudblood. How would you feel?"

"Pretty pissed off and angry," Harry admitted.

"Well, imagine that multiplied by thousand, and a death threat thrown in for good measure," joined in Ron, glancing at Hermione.

"It means," continued Hermione, "…its like Ron said, far worse than being called a mudblood…it means you think the person…the muggle…is…an animal," she flung her arms down by her sides emphatically, "…worse than an animal…like the world would have been better if they hadn't been born…"

Harry looked between his two friends and sank to a sitting position by the window, shaking his head in disbelief.

"It's what You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters call each muggle they kill…as if the world is much better because they've put to rights someone who was mis-born. Mistakenly born," Ron finished.

"It's an old term," added Hermione knowledgeably. "Grown from the "good old days" where anyone declared misborn was considered fair game for any wizard to kill. And even if no-one takes you up on her assassination, you've probably just exposed her as being a muggle to the whole school."

Harry stood open-mouthed. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't...he hadn't…it was terrible…

Just then the door opened.

"Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, sweeping into the room and surveying the three wizards, who stood briskly to attention, with a professional eye. "The headmaster would like to see you now."

"Sirius Black is a liar and cruel," declared Hermione quietly to Harry and Ron, turning in their direction as she walked through the door towards McGonagall and following the direction of her arm that was gesturing towards the first floor corridor with her eye. "I'm never going to speak to him again."

88888888

Professor Severus Snape stood before Dumbledore, holding a crumpled sheet of parchment in his hands and looking desperately at him. Inwardly, Dumbledore sighed.

"Headmaster, I know what you're about to say." Dumbledore held up his hand at Snape's metacognition and the wizard fell silent.

"You came by this information through your enchanted Slytherin notebook." Snape nodded, looking urgently at Dumbledore, impatiently waiting for an opportunity to speak.

"Let her go, Severus. As she has asked you to."

"I need her, headmaster… "

"She asks you not to follow her, and that she will be back again. We should put our faith in Cecilia." Snape took some anxious steps towards Dumbledore's desk behind which he was sitting, his volume increasing.

"But she will be in danger now she has left the castle. How are we to be assured of her safety?"

"We are not," replied Dumbledore carefully. "However she is in her own world; she could be anywhere or with anyone. For all we know, she managed to get her automobile working and is heading home as we speak." Snape sighed in frustration.

"However we don't know that – " again, Dumbledore held up a hand.

"What does her letter say? Would you read it again, Severus?" Snape bent his head, speaking the words from the parchment aloud.

"She told us not to blame Potter." Snape looked up from the letter. "Tell me Professor, what has Potter done?"

Behind the main door of Dumbledore's office, Hermione stopped in the process of stepping on the top step of the spiral staircase as a loud and enraged exclamation reverberated through the thick oak door.

Waiting a few moments for the vibrations to die away, she tapped quietly on the door.

"Enter."

As she did so, she was aware of both Professors Dumbledore and Snape watching her enter and as Hermione crossed the floor slowly she refused to look away from Dumbledore and at Snape whose furious glower penetrated the back of her neck.

"Good evening Miss Granger," said Dumbledore kindly. "Thank you for coming up directly. Please sit." He gestured to a chair in the middle of his office. Hesitantly Hermione sat, her mind running through the possible reasons for her being here and coming to the same conclusion.

"Now, Miss Granger. I have asked you to speak to us on a grave and urgent matter." Dumbledore steepled his fingers on the desk before him.

"Please could you enlighten us as to the incidents that took place during your muggle studies class this afternoon?"

88888888

The train jerked to a stop as its buffers hit the endplate with a rebounding jolt. The end of the line had come and Cecilia exhaled as she glanced out of the window. The train from Dovetown had finally reached its destination in the small Northumberland town of Blyth.

Dozily Cecilia got to her feet, grabbing her bags and departing the train, stepping onto the platform and blinking in the bright electric lights.

Around her bustled commuters who had just departed other trains from Newcastle and Durham, taking them home on this dark mid-week evening.

Cecilia hoisted her bags onto her shoulder, trying to get her mind to register first what she was doing on the platform and once she'd established that, what she needed to do to get to London.

Carefully avoiding a young woman with a pair of toddlers who were scampering around their mother, she walked towards the timetable board, around which other passengers were stood, establishing the time and platforms for their trains and she searched for the mainline stations where she would possibly be able to get a night-time train.

"…and when we get to the Grenoble Hotel…the conference suite…"

"…Athens this year again, we went there last year…"

"…but mum said she'd only be able to look after Tia part-time so I'll go back to work full time next year, when she's five…"

People around her spoke on mobile phones and amongst themselves as she scanned the boards. Eight forty-five, she thought, noting the time both on her wristwatch and the station platform. And there was a train on platform 2 in seven minutes that would take her to Newcastle and from there she was bound to be able to get a mainline train South.

She paused in the process of heading off as the voices of the people around her infiltrated her conscious mind. That was what life was supposed to be like. Worrying about work, talking about holidays. Not being attacked by teenage boys with magic spells.

Fleetingly the ignorant world of muggles flashed in front of her mind. From where she was standing it looked very tempting indeed to bathe in trivialities such as those and a pang of longing washed over her.

A pair of eyes watched as Cecilia hoisted her bags up onto her shoulder before making her way towards the steps that would take her under line 1 and 2 before slowly following her.

88888888

At the same time that Cecilia Frobisher boarded the train to Newcastle, Harry Potter stood before Professor Dumbledore, feeling a shudder of remorse pass over him as he ran through his defence. Confidently he looked at Snape before flicking his head back to Dumbledore.

"I will come straight to the point, Harry," said Dumbledore slowly, pushing his half-moon spectacles up his long nose. "I need you to answer my questions honestly and accurately." He paused and despite himself, Harry felt his head nod.

"Tell me, what did you do or say to Mrs Frobisher that made her disappear?"

"I attacked her," replied Harry steadily, refusing to take his eyes off Dumbledore as a low growl came from the vicinity of Snape. Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"I see. This is indeed a serious matter. To attack a teacher whether through magic or force or by word and deed for _whatever_ reason is an offence worthy of expulsion from Hogwarts. Do you have anything to say in your defence?"

Again, Harry did not take his eyes from Dumbledore even though it felt as if Snape's hot glare was penetrating the back of his head.

"No, sir. I lost my temper through personal reasons. And from misinformation."

"Minisnformation?!" thundered Snape, striding forward furiously. "You declared her m – …you declared her to be a muggle in front of your peers and most of the school!" His eyes bulged with rage as he ferociously pointed out where Harry had erred. "May I ask from whom you got this misinformation, and what it contained?"

The question was left hanging in the air as Snape stared at him. Harry looked back at Dumbledore, waiting to see whether that was in fact what the headmaster wanted an answer to or whether it was Snape's method of admonishment. Dumbledore turned to Snape and smiled slowly.

"We will get to that, Professor Snape," he said, glancing back at Harry. "I do not think I have to tell you that there may be grave repercussions for the way you addressed Mrs Frobisher today. I understand there are pressures, but you had absolutely no right to speak to her in the way that you did. Indeed I have been obliged to call every member of your class, and those from adjacent classrooms who heard your outburst to my office individually in order to perform a memory charm."

"As of now all Hogwarts students, with the exception of Hermione Granger and the Weasley children believe Mrs Frobisher to be a squib, which is how I intend it to remain until this work is over, do I make myself clear?" Harry nodded in hasty agreement. Dumbledore looked at him for a long time before returning the nod.

"Now, I would be obliged if you would explain to Professor Snape and myself the reason for attacking Mrs Frobisher."

Harry glanced at the silently furious Snape who was standing to his left, still wearing an expression of fury. He said nothing.

"Miss Granger told me, Harry that you tried to curse her and to her face accused her of certain…indiscretions." At once Harry's eyes flicked across to Snape before looking to the floor, a few inches past his feet. "And whether they took place or not certainly do not pertain to the acquisition of the potion that is under development to be used in the battle." Dumbledore stopped again, allowing the information to sink in.

"Don't just stand there, Potter!" Snape growled in Harry's direction. "The Headmaster asked you a question! What was your reason for attacking Mrs Frobisher? For your attack was very precise, almost planned. If Mr Weasley hadn't the wit to knock your hand away then she would indeed be suffering greatly from her injuries."

Again, Harry remained silent, looking back at Dumbledore.

"I require an answer, Harry," he prompted softly.

"I – " began Harry, glancing at Snape. "She gets on my nerves! I don't like her interfering! She's such a pain! Snooping into my past and questioning me the whole time, like about my aunt and everything! And wanting bits of my mother!"

"And for that, you drove Mrs Frobisher to leave Hogwarts!" Snape's fists were thrust firmly on his hips as he accused Harry. "For all we know she may never return, either through choice or because you have publicly declared her as a target. _Should _she never return we will have lost the best chance we ever had of defeating the Dark Lord for good!"

Dumbledore shifted in his big oak chair ever so slightly and placed his hands on the leather top of his desk.

"Professor Snape is quite correct, Harry. Now, why do you believe Sirius should have killed her?" Dumbledore's question took Harry by surprise; he hadn't been expecting it.

"Er, I…" he began lamely. "Well I…Sirius said…" he stopped, noting Snape's expression but before he had a chance to say something Dumbledore held up his hand briefly.

"Sirius said she was a danger and I shouldn't trust her…even _you_ said this potion is dangerous! _And_ she's a muggle who doesn't have the capacity to understand anything about me!"

Dumbledore looked down for what seemed like an age. The large, gothic-design clock appeared to stop in its keeping of time. Snape, his arms still folded, stared at Harry in silence. Even the pictures of the former Heads of Hogwarts above the fireplace appeared immobile in their frames, as if their paint had finally dried. Eventually he looked up.

"Not only have I heard Mrs Frobisher addresses you Harry, I have heard the way she addresses you. She is sensitive and so much patience with you. At every turn she has explained what she is doing and because of this she uncovered and made clear one of the most remarkable links between muggles and wizards, something we believed to be lost forever." Dumbledore paused, looking Harry directly in the eye.

"A link which is absolutely vital to the weapon…the potion that is being produced which you have agreed to consume in order to carry out your part in the battle plan. Whatever else Mrs Frobisher has or has not done is of no consequence to you. Indeed to any of us."

Harry looked down when Dumbledore had finished speaking. He was right. Mrs Frobisher was here to help. She does what she does for wizards.

But that's not strictly true, is it? At the back of his mind, a small voice coursed through his submissive agreement.

"I explained to you what the result of this could be Harry," Dumbledore continued. "Are there any questions you wish to ask now regarding the weapon, Harry?"

Harry looked back at Dumbledore, saying nothing.

"Maybe the conversations with your godfather have convinced you to think that the Dark Lord will simply disappear of his own accord, Potter. Or maybe you just don't respect her?"

"Maybe _you_ don't respect her!" It was Snape's turn to look confused.

"Harry?" Dumbledore steepled his fingers again.

"I've seen the way you are with her! I saw you, touching her! And if that's not disrespect, I don't know what is!"

"Why you – " Dumbledore got to his feet quickly as Snape took a step towards Harry. He stopped still and glanced at Dumbledore, who lowered himself to his chair before looking back at Harry.

"How do you know this?" he growled darkly.

"Well, I …" Harry began, stuttering slightly, "well me and Ron we…"

"Go on…"

"…saw you, before Christmas…"

"Saw what?"

"Well, she was in your room, asleep…" he stopped, looking in triumph at Snape's horrified expression. "You kissed her." Snape said nothing, growing pale and looking down.

88888888

The train departed the last stop on the Blyth to Newcastle. Hopefully, just hopefully a train would take her to London tonight, and she would be able to locate the tube station in London where Godric's Hollow stood.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to barricade the tide of thoughts and voices in her mind, which were tossing and turning turbulently.

I'm right to do this, thought Cecilia to the powerful tempests that were raging behind her eyes. It's the right thing to do!

The people behind her were laughing and joking; giggling and chuckling about something or other and Cecilia fought the teacher in her to tell them to be quiet and she gazed out of the window as the lights from the approaching city began to sparkle and flicker as the train got up speed.

"…meeting Charmaine, man, then won't we be a sorry sight 'morrow…"

Cecilia looked at her watch. Nearly quarter past ten. If she could just get a direct train, the centre of London. And get to the Green Lane tube station. Then she could get to Godric's Hollow…

"…aye, 'appen we'll get feyer, man...!"

…get a map of the stations and find the town. But she wouldn't be able to get one of those until she got to London…

Cecilia watched the lights streak past. Well that's if she could get there without too much fuss. It wouldn't be long before her disappearance was knowledge amongst the Order and someone would be trying to find her.

"…and get right pissed into the bargain! Haha! Right legless, aye…"

Oh why can't you be quiet! You've been like this for the last hour and a half! Cecilia glanced down the carriage at the half-full seats and at her watch. Twenty past ten. It wouldn't matter in a minute; she would be off and onto the next train.

She pulled her smaller bag up onto her knees and glanced at the lights again, which were getting denser as the train neared its destination. Someone was bound to be looking for her, whether now or later. Dumbledore wasn't stupid, nor Snape. One of the Order would probably be making their way to Edgeford, and to London. There was probably someone on this train now, following her.

As the train jolted over the bogeys Cecilia turned behind her and shivered, wondering if there actually was someone there. It could even be – no. Don't think it. This is your world now.

She leaned back and looked at the passengers again. Well if there was someone there following her, how dare they! She had every right to leave and go where she pleased!

The lights dimmed in the carriage for a second as the train began to slow into its approach and Cecilia swallowed, swivelling on the seat and looking at the passengers who were beginning to rise, sighing deeply and swallowing as she picked up her larger bag from the floor and throwing the shoulder strap of the other over her shoulder.

Got to get to London, she thought as she climbed the Central's steps to the mezzanine level to the timetables, climbing the steps as quickly as possible and ignoring the syncopated oscillation of her larger bag against her thigh.

Locating the timetables Cecilia read them three times only to find the next through train would be quarter to five in the morning. Her best bet now, she'd realised would be to catch another so she could get at least somewhere. She didn't fancy waiting around Newcastle Central all night so perhaps….Manchester? Leeds? Sheffield?

"The next train at this time'll be…" the man behind the information desk looked at his watch, "…in twenty minutes. That'll get you to Sheffield." Cecilia swallowed, looking at him and trying not to react to the panic that was beginning to rise, and nodded.

"And how much is that?" she asked, reaching into her jeans pocket.

"Return?" the man pushed his glasses up his nose in a manner not unlike Cecilia had seen Dumbledore do when he appeared to be concentrating.

"Single," said Cecilia, pulling out some change. "How much is that?" The man glanced at a sheet of paper in front of him.

"Er, let me see…single…" he turned over a page, "nineteen pounds eighty, pet…" his voice trailed off as he glanced at the galleon in Cecilia's hand.

"Nineteen pounds," Cecilia sorted through her change, making a mental note to get some money from the next cash point, thrusting her hand into her pocket again, "twenty, forty, fifty, seventy, eighty pence." She looked up at the man, handing him the money in pound coins and silver apologetically.

"There we are," he replied, handing her the orange and yellow ticket. "Platform 4a."

"Thanks," Cecilia said, taking it before turning and hoisting the bag onto her shoulder. 4a, she thought, scanning the signs above huge hall that displayed the numbers for the platforms. 4a. 4a... As she made her way towards the platform she heard an announcement.

"The next train to arrive at platform 4a – will be – the – " Cecilia stopped dead as she heard the staccato announcement over the tannoy, " – 10 – 55 train – to – Sheffield, calling at – " Cecilia continued to walk towards the platform again, " and Harrogate. This train is – delayed. Please listen – for further – announcements. We are – very sorry – for the – delays in this service."

Cecilia stopped again, and sighed. Delayed. She looked up at the signboard above the steps down to 4a. The time of the train now had the word written in bold and blinking intermittently next to Sheffield train details. Damn. Well the only thing she could do now was wait.

Cecilia looked down the hall again and, noticing the small newsagents at the corner realised she was actually a little hungry.

"Three pounds seven," said the man behind the counter. Cecilia looked down at the sandwich, newspaper and spiralbound notebook and plunged her hand into her pocket again, trying to leave the galleon behind. Walking out she glanced up at the screen with the list of trains on again. Delayed.

Sighing inwardly, Cecilia made her way to a bench in full view of the screen, looking up again in case the sign had changed before looking down at the paper. Now she was sitting, Cecilia could feel her heart beating faster as she looked back up again.

Read this, she told herself sharply. Calm down. Nothing's going to make it come faster. Sit and read this and wait.

Turning over the first page, Cecilia glanced down to the second page and looked at the lower article as her mind randomly skipped to the letter she had written to Snape. She looked back down towards the newsagents, hoping he'd got the message.

Then, taking one more glance at the display board, she turned back to the article about the young charismatic leader of the opposition who, this paper declared, had a snowman's chance in hell of winning the next General Election.

88888888

"Let me ask you Harry, you said Mrs Frobisher was asleep." Harry nodded, dumbly. Dumbledore looked to his left at Snape, who staring rigidly at Harry. He turned back to Harry.

"Aside from the fact that anything that what any in teacher in this school does when they are not teaching is a private matter, your actions both this afternoon and by your own admission before Christmas are very grave indeed." Dumbledore was standing up now, and addressing Harry in a cold voice.

"You were, as Professor Snape indicated, disrespectful to a teacher who is also and a member of the Order. Whatever your personal feelings Harry you have done as I warned you not to do. You have allowed your feelings interfere with proceedings."

"However it may interest you to know that the night in question was one where both Professor Snape and Mrs Frobisher elucidated the mystery that had evaded even myself and if I were to have witnessed the events which you have just described to us Harry, I would interpret their actions as a jubilant celebration of their success. Now," continued Dumbledore, making it clear that the conversation was closed, "can you share with us the reason your opinion of Mrs Frobisher has changed? Other than she has asked you fairly awkward questions?"

"Black," growled Snape, under his breath, looking at Harry with narrowing eyes.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape?"

"Black!" he spat in Harry's direction, looking down.

"Black? Oh yes, I see." Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Sirius Black has something to do with this? Other than your fervent trust of him?"

Harry looked down, quickly. Had Sirius betrayed him? Had he lied to him about Mrs Frobisher and Lupin? Perhaps he shouldn't have given Dobby a letter to Owl to Sirius about Mrs Frobisher's disappearance.

"Harry, I'm asking for your honesty here. Has Sirius Black something to do with your mistrust of her and the work she is undertaking?" Harry nodded guiltily.

"How long have you been communicating information to Black?" Harry whipped his head round to look at Snape, who spoke low and soft, announcing Harry's secret aloud.

"Since the beginning of the year," he confessed, feeling a stab of humiliation in the pit of his stomach. Sirius had been using him for information, hadn't he? "He said she couldn't be trusted, that I should watch myself and not allow her to do anything un-natural." Harry looked down, ashamed.

"Anything else, Potter? It is best we clear up matters now." Harry looked imploringly at Dumbledore, for any sign of redemption.

"That she dumped Remus after they went off together, because she found out he was a werewolf – " Dumbledore raised his huge bushy eyebrows and Harry swallowed, feeling a flush of embarrassment swell on his cheeks. " – and, well…it seems he was lying…"

"Hm," said Dumbledore, folding his arms and looking at the far humbler young wizard who was standing before him now. "Indeed. Lupin and Mrs Frobisher did indeed part company through his actions. His reasons are his own. Do you understand?"

Again Dumbledore's words expressed finality, and Harry nodded.

"He said wizards had died on her behalf…" he trailed off as he saw Dumbledore sigh inwardly.

"Regrettably, this is so. Wizards, three from the Order, have died at the hands of the enemy in order to retain and protect Mrs Frobisher. However, their deaths, these losses, are something we have to bear if we are to stand any chance of defeating the enemy. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," he confirmed glancing uncertainly at Snape, who was wearing an expression of doubt.

"As a result, her whereabouts are yet unknown. Members of the Order are searching for her, putting themselves in unnecessary danger – " Harry looked downcast at Dumbledore's words. I'm sorry, he thought urgently. I _am _sorry…

" – however your actions have not been wholly destructive, Harry," added Dumbledore, gliding back round the table and sitting in his chair. "Do you know who Joseph Black is Harry?"

Harry paused, clearing his head of the last twenty minutes' of conversation. Joseph Black…why did that name ring a bell? As his mind scrolled through his thoughts a flicker of recognition twinkled at the back. Yes, thought Harry.

"Yes." He was in Ron's book that Mrs Frobisher had given to him.

"Joseph Black was a pure blood wizard who lived almost two hundred years ago. Throughout many years he, and other wizards liaised and worked closely in collaboration with muggles for the future benefit of all. Joseph Black was an ancestor of Sirius," he added, nodding encouragingly.

"Joseph Black worked closely with a muggle industrialist by the name of – "

"James Watt!" said Harry in an uplifted tone of realisation. Dumbledore nodded.

"According to legend, Watt worked as a young man with Black, and they developed a close friendship. Once he was established, Watt improved on the steam engine design originally built by another muggle, Newcomen, who in turn had developed this with another wizard."

"Watt's development was the beginning of the age that muggles call the "Industrial Revolution" where mechanised power began to allow muggles freedom. However Watt refused to accredit or acknowledge Black. Infuriated, Black formed together with other enemies of muggles and using the knowledge he had gained through their association. This association is now known as "Death Eaters". Dumbledore stopped and Harry sneaked a glance at Snape.

"They developed a form of magic which allowed whole communities of muggles to die with very little effort and leaving very little evidence which, incidentally, has been solved through the Universal link."

"Wh – " began Harry, who was beginning to get lost. "So you're saying that one of Sirius's ancestors developed a form of mass murder because he fell out with Watt, and founded the Death Eaters?" Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Snape.

"Black's idea was picked up Voldermort. He used the name "Death Eater" because of the use of this magic, for it is highly sophisticated and displays his power very clearly. Indeed, he used it as recently as Halloween – "

" – Auld Magic," said Harry, glancing at Dumbledore sheepishly. "Sirius told me," he added. "So how does Joseph Black link to Voldermort?"

"What Joseph Black began, Voldermort continued. Do you remember the muggle scientists with whom you assisted Mrs Frobisher before she hit upon the Universal link?" Harry nodded.

"Raymond Lully was another ancestor of the Black family, a cousin of Alphard Black. When Joseph Black and later on the Ministry of Magic formally broke off communication with the muggle world, some wizards did not and secretly they worked with scientists for our benefit. Lully was one of them and he worked quite successfully until however, he was assassinated at the – "

" – goblin riots of 1956," said Harry, astonished. "It all makes sense…"

88888888

Hermione Granger entered the Gryffindor common room and looked around, sighing inwardly. Harry. How stupid. Stupid!

Walking across the common room she huffed as she looked at the couple of students still around. Where was Ron when she needed him?

"Hermione?" Ginny lifted her head from the book she was reading by the fireplace as Hermione glanced from side to side before walking briskly towards the stairs. Quickly she ascended the steps before stopping at the landing.

Ron would probably be in bed now, waiting for Harry to return, she thought, looking daringly at the door to the boys' dormitories. And now Mrs Frobisher wasn't here she couldn't make any more. Not just yet. Not like there was any reason for them to go gallivanting round the corridors of the school under the invisibility cloak either.

But. Ron would understand if I pulled him out of bed for a chat, wouldn't he? She needed to speak to him. She wanted to speak to him…about everything that was going on. And without Harry.

Hermione put her hand on the door of the dormitory, feeling the crackle of the Immobilus charm behind her hand that prevented girls from entering; likewise the one on the girls'.

"Hermione?" she turned and saw Ginny climbing the stairs, and quickly lowered her wand. The younger girl looked at Hermione's raised wand.

"What happened?" she asked Hermione. "What did Dumbledore say? Is Harry expelled?" Hermione sagged. That's it then, she thought with a frustrated sigh. No chance of shaking off Ginny and being able to use a counter spell to get in and speak to Ron.

It wasn't as if she didn't like the girl. But it was probably a lifetime of growing up with six brothers that made her infuriatingly pushy; it was the only way Ginny had probably been able to get involved with them otherwise.

"Ginny," said Hermione. "I…I don't know. The McGonagall took me in first." She glanced from side to side. "Not here," she added and took a few steps towards the girls' dormitory. Ginny followed her through the door, and down the steps into the bedroom.

Jumping onto the bed, Hermione pushed the pillows back towards the headrest and beckoned the younger girl to sit, pulling the curtains round the four-posters so they could not be seen.

"Imperturbus!" whispered Hermione, and Ginny looked up to see lilac sparks course their way along the bedframe, sealing their area and preventing sound from leaking out of their cocoon.

"So," promoted Ginny. "What happened? I heard Harry shouting something this afternoon, but most of our class were in the way."

"I think Dumbledore and the McGonagall have been busy with memory charms. No-one saw Harry fire the spell at Mrs Frobisher and heard him call her misborn now…" Hermione trailed off knowingly, watching Ginny's mouth fall open.

"He…he's going to be expelled then…" Ginny looked down and round, before back at Hermione, her voice cracking. "…expelled…" Hermione shuffled closer to Ginny, looking at her sympathetically.

"I don't know. I don't think so." She shook her head and gave her a kindly smile as Ginny looked up, confused.

"The Order need him – "

"They need her too – " Ginny replied. "And now she's gone and caused him to get expelled!"

Hermione picked up Ginny's hand carefully and stroked the back of it. That was the reason she was proactively seeking boyfriend after boyfriend; changing her mind every month or so. She wanted Harry to notice that she was old enough to be a girlfriend to someone…

"She's old enough to look after herself, even if she can't do magic. Look, I spoke to Harry: he said he didn't even know what "misborn" meant. I think he's sorry, Ginny." The young girl smiled.

"Do you think so? I'm just so worried about Harry. I mean, I like him a lot – " she glanced at Hermione, "as a friend. I just don't think I could stand it if he died…"

And to Hermione's surprise, Ginny Weasley began to cry: big, mournful sobs and Hermione shuffled forward, holding her shoulders with both hands.

"I don't think Mrs Frobisher has any intention of letting him come to harm, Ginny."

88888888

"So you see Potter, life is slightly more complicated than one teacher asking you difficult questions."

"Is Sirius a traitor? Is that why you're telling me all this?" Harry looked at Dumbledore, who was still seated behind his desk and looking grave.

"He is a confused man. You can understand that I am sure; imagine having two very strong influences in your life Harry, one opposing the other. Sirius decided a long time ago to give up his family's ways, which are those that Joseph Black declared almost 200 years ago. However you have witnessed the other influence, that which haunts him, deep down, through his blood…"

To Harry's left, Snape snorted his contempt. Dumbledore glanced in his direction before continuing.

"I take it you realise what you have done was inappropriate; that you have wronged someone who you should be thanking?"

Harry nodded earnestly. Why had he listened to Sirius? Maybe he was as dense as Snape had informed him so many times, to blindly go along when in actually, he didn't know the facts. Like Hermione had warned.

Dumbledore got to his feet, and walked towards Harry, and began to smile.

"I feel the time has come, Harry for you to become more involved in the research that Mrs Frobisher and Professor Snape are undertaking to gain a fuller understanding of the nature of their work." Harry's heart began to beat faster. Fewer lessons? Excellent…

"In order for you to fit this into your schedule, and indeed to ease the burden on Mrs Frobisher, you are hereby prohibited from the Gryffindor quidditch team – " Harry felt his face visibly drop, and at the same time a slow smile play on Snape's lips.

" – but sir…!"

" – and any Hogsmeade visits. When Mrs Frobisher does not require your assistance you will report to Professor Snape who will instruct you further. Is that understood?"

Grudgingly, Harry nodded. No quidditch! Well at least he hadn't been expelled. And at least tings began to seem a little bit clearer now, about Voldermort, and about Sirius.

"You should report to Professor McGonagall and inform her of your change in sanctions, then directly to your dormitory. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry nodded. "Professor?" Dumbledore looked at him in anticipation.

"When do I need to start work with Mrs Frobisher?"

"I should think that would be obvious." Snape was addressing Harry now, his upper lip curling menacingly. Dumbledore took a step back and allowed Snape to speak. "It will be as soon as Mrs Frobisher returns, which indeed may be never if she has decided to part company with us and return to the muggle world or, put herself in unforeseen danger and is now…dead." Snape folded his arms.

"However, if this question is aimed at ascertaining the commencement of your punishment, then the answer is that it begins now."

Harry looked immediately from Snape to Dumbledore, his last grain of hope dazzling like a pearl in a river of ebbing silt.

"Please inform Professor McGonagall of that information that as of this evening she is short of a Seeker," he reiterated. "Now, good night Harry. And please remember, the conversation we have had here tonight is between only us – " Dumbledore looked at him and Snape.

"Yes, Professor," he confirmed. "And thank you for not expelling me," he added quickly. "And just to say I'm sorry. I _am _sorry for my actions, sir." Dumbledore smiled.

"Then that should be the first thing you say to Mrs Frobisher when she returns. Good night."

"Good night, Professor," he replied. Turning quickly and with a feeling of elation inside, Harry walked hurriedly towards the door and through it quickly.

Pausing on the first step, Harry considered what had transpired in the last forty minutes. Dumbledore had shared what seemed to be an enormous amount of information with him about not only Mrs Frobisher, settling his worries, but about the world around him.

How many other people, how many other wizards knew about this? About a secret history well buried but that affected everyone today?

He was just about to take a step when he stopped as an echo of the subsequent conversation penetrated Dumbledore's office door.

"…has made an unfortunate error Professor Snape, to our advantage…

"…about the change in the plan…?"

"…do what must be done…"

"…the Order will…open for all to see…Black…"

Harry strained to hear the conversation; however the voices were too indistinct. Dismissing what he had heard to the back of his mind, Harry made his way down the spiral staircase until he reached the huge eagle at the bottom.

"Indeed headmaster," said Snape, walking across the floor of the office and standing before Dumbledore, who had sat back down on his chair. "However if I leave now, we could save ourselves the trouble of – " Dumbledore raised his hand.

"I understand your concern, Professor Snape. Cecilia is dear to us all. We have to trust in her, believe in her, after all she as sacrificed for us, whether she knows it or not. That is what she is asking us to do."

"However, I noticed that she has become withdrawn. The students have noticed that she has spent more and more time away from them, and more and more time with you; some weekends neither of you are not out of the muggle studies classroom." Dumbledore looked over his spectacles.

"And why should I not give a colleague shelter when she is being treated so abominably by those she is endeavouring to assist? Potter is a case in point." Snape gestured with his arm towards the door.

"Minerva informed me two days ago that Hermione Granger had been to see her about Mrs Frobisher's behaviour. Minerva herself had begun to have concerns; that she had been getting increasingly despondent in the pursuit of this potion. Have you any evidence to suppose that the magic in our environment might be having an adverse affect on her health?" Dumbledore looked at Snape, who nodded knowingly.

"Considering the effects of magic on muggles it would not be in the least but surprising if we were to discover that the background magic here has begun to affect Mrs Frobisher. She has been exposed to a medium-to-high level for a prolonged period of time." Snape took a few steps towards the fireplace.

"Although, she is a female. Perhaps there is a psychological effect. An emotional effect. Black's treatment of her for example, or Lupin." He turned, looking at Dumbledore with an indescribable expression fleeting across his pallid features.

"We have no idea where she may be, Headmaster? No-one had discovered her whereabouts?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"Not the slightest idea. Cecilia Frobisher is in her world now and despite our powers, it is very easy for a muggle to move about in their own world undetected, especially if she doesn't want to be found. However we do have some idea as to where she may be heading."

Snape's face changed from concern to realisation.

"Edgeford; Merlin help her if she decides to go there now…Grimmauld Place; though I doubt that…" He looked at Dumbledore.

"I believe she has reverted to the science of which she is most familiar. Has she mentioned anything, Professor Snape to make you believe she requires anything above what we can provide in the castle?" At his prompt, Snape strode quickly towards his desk, his face determined.

"Only that for which Black sought to extinguish her life." Dumbledore nodded.

"She has shown resilience beyond measure and she has made you what appears to be a very sincere promise. Once we have located her, Professor Snape the Order will ensure she comes to no harm."

"I can do that!" he snapped, folding his arms in annoyance and looking away from Dumbledore, before slowly turning his head back.

"However…I concede that other Order members are perfectly capable," Snape continued gravely. "For I am needed tomorrow night for my other duty."

88888888

Artificial light filtered through Cecilia Frobisher closed eyes and as the train came to a clunk and she woozily got to her feet. Her smaller denim bag slipped from her lap as the momentum reverberated through the train and she tripped over it before blinking a few times, reaching for the handrail.

The Sheffield train had been delayed by almost an hour and a half and by the time Cecilia boarded it, at quarter past midnight, she had read the newspaper three times, including the Sports section; contemplated another note to Snape telling him where she was; used the notebook to write down what was bothering her the most; done the crossword; attempted the cryptic crossword; read the horoscopes and paced up and down the platform as the chilly late January air infiltrated the enclosed station.

Once or twice a supervisor had asked her whether she was all right, in a thick, Geordie accent and she had moved sides of the platform for a change of poster view.

All in all, thought Cecilia, not a very quick or sophisticated getaway, especially if she was being followed.

The thought of her being followed had concerned Cecilia greatly as she had settled down on the train when it had finally arrived. No doubt she was being followed or watched; or at least her destination speculated. It was this final thought that Cecilia had on her mind as the rhythm of the train lulled her to sleep and bizarre and surreal images filled her mind in her half-sleep about what she could do to divert attention from herself.

The Sheffield station clock displayed the time as being 02.49. Almost ten to three, thought Cecilia grimly. Now to find out the next train to London…

…which was to arrive at twenty five to six at platform 3. Blinking at the times, Cecilia calculated it would be far better to wait for this train, rather than attempt to get further south on another, for it would take her to Euston, right into the centre of the capital.

Making her way towards the waiting room, Cecilia pulled on the door. It didn't move. Behind her, she heard a noise.

"It's locked till morning, love," a man in a British Rail uniform said to her. "To stop tramps and the like usin' it as a toilet an' a bedroom." The man's face broke into a smile.

"Not that _you'd_ do that, love. But it's policy. What time's your train?"

"Five thirty five," said Cecilia despondently. Following her wait in Newcastle she didn't really fancy waiting around here for a couple of hours. The man looked at his watch.

"There's an all-night caff that don't mind late travellers waiting in't there," he continued, "'s as long as yer buy a drink. Or yer could wait on the benches upstairs." Cecilia smiled and nodded.

"Thank you," she said, smiling graciously. "I'll try the café."

5.35. Then she could get to Green Lane.

Cecilia sipped the cheap, hot coffee as she sat in the brightly-lit café, wondering whether it would have been better for her to have waited at Newcastle after all. She would have had a long wait, but she would be on a direct train.

Taking another sip she looked out of the window at the gloomy street, poorly lit by a handful of sodium streetlights and glanced at her watch. Ten past three. What was she going to do in Sheffield for two and a half hours?

She was tired. And if she stayed here too long she'd be asleep on the table here in the café.

Draining the coffee to the bitter dregs, Cecilia got to her feet. The woman behind the counter gave her a smile as she pulled open the glass door with the stainless steel patina'd door handle and stepped onto the street and began to head back towards the station.

So, when I get to Euston, I'll get an Underground map and find out where Green Lane is, she thought, walking steadily in the darkness. Then..what?

Past the station now she walked before pausing and leaning against the low wall that lined the deserted taxi rank. Then…Godric's Hollow couldn't be far away. From Lupin's memory, Cecilia recalled it was directly adjacent.

Yawning, she glanced at her watch again. Three twenty.

Perhaps if she went back inside she could sit on the benches as the guard had suggested and wait it out.

Yes. I'll do that.

Cecilia turned and picked up her bags again which had suddenly become much heavier than they had been when she had flown out of Hogwarts in a hurry yesterday afternoon. As she made her way back inside she paused as her caught an advertisement for trains to the heart of England, to Birmingham and her mind ran over the possibility of her catching one…

…to a normal life, to a magic-free life…to leave this behind her…to run away…

No. A voice, firm and clear rang in her mind. Running away when things get tough. Not when you're this close to sorting it out.

As she made her way back into the foyer of the station, lit dimly as it was now, Cecilia considered what she would be doing if she was back at Hogwarts as she sat on the nearest bench and pulled her bags up next to her.

Walking down from her room to meet Professor Snape. To the work on the potion, to carry on with the analysis.

It seemed so simple now she was sitting here alone, in the gloom of the empty station. With…she looked out of the window… with the concrete tower blocks in the winter darkness just out there.

No

She mustn't think like that. If she didn't get Lily's sample then she would have failed in her agreement with Dumbledore to find the most effective potion for Harry to take to defeat Voldermort in the battle…and she damned well would…

Cecilia shivered and looked to her right and left as she considered her position. What would happen when someone worked out where she was?

Getting back to her feet, Cecilia made her way outside again. She didn't know what had made her move, but she couldn't sit still. Outside, the cold chill whipped past her and she began to pace towards the café again.

After just a couple of steps, she stopped again, glancing at the posters advertising the National Express coaches on the hoardings that hung next to the station entrance.

Sheffield to London, 18 pounds return...Sheffield to Manchester 7 pounds return. Bargain, thought Cecilia. Sheffield to Birmingham 12 pounds return. Birmingham…

She could go to Birmingham, she thought. Get the coach to Digbeth and a train to London from New Street. She could also get to Edgeford from there quite easily…

As the thought eased into Cecilia's mind, one part leapt to her defence. She needed to go back there at some point to get the sample analysed. It wasn't _just_ that she was starting to miss home since she had been travelling in her own world now…

Cecilia glanced at her watch, and then across the street to the group of phone boxes a hundred yards away.

Twenty to four. Too late to call Nick, now; though he was an early riser he would probably be concerned about the hour from her point of view. Far better when she got to London when she had the DNA sample.

But…she could go _home_…

No.

Don't run away.

Run forward.

The gloves are off.

The die is cast.

Let's get another coffee then, she told herself resignedly; wait it out until…

…she took a few more steps, considering the almost two hour wait ahead of her…and walked to the café again. As she stood outside the words on the road sign became clearer in the darkness and the main A-roads and motorway were clearly marked.

These were the roads that, if she had a car she would use to get to London, which was a mere three hours away in her car…

…and she carried on walking…

…I can't wait here. Otherwise I'll end up catching the Birmingham train and then I'll never get to London…

Continuing to walk past the café Cecilia made her way right determinedly, following the sign that led towards the motorway…

88888888

In the darkness Professor Severus Snape added another crushed Belladonna leaf to a bubbling, smoking cauldron brew. A slight odour of ammonia lingered around him as he stepped back, allowing the leaf to infuse.

His study was being conducted, not in the muggle studies or potions classrooms or indeed anywhere in the vicinity of the regular teaching classrooms but tucked far away in Slytherin House dungeons and the darkness within seemed thick and dense.

Broken glass lay around him as Snape stared at the potion intensely as if daring it not to turn into the potion he needed and, as green foam oozed across the surface of the liquid, danger replaced the feeling of anticipated success.

Snape curled his lip as he stared into the cauldron…three failed batches tonight…and now…this one…at last…

The door opened suddenly and Snape blinked at the light that had been let in. Malfoy.

"I had trouble getting away from the Weasley maggots. I think they are trying to get me in detention again." He looked curiously at his housemaster bent in an unflattering position over the potion. "I think it was they who were involved with delaying me before when the squib woman got the book back." He stopped as Snape gave him a disdainful look.

"Don't try to wriggle out of this! You have failed Draco." Walking past Draco Malfoy, he threw the door that the boy had opened shut behind him. "And now you wish me to do that also."

"No," began Draco. "I didn't fail…" Snape threw the empty vial of cockroach essence against an unseen wall and it splintered noisily into tiny pieces. He glowered at Draco, pacing round back towards the now-bubbling potion.

"Even now our allies; your father amongst them risk life and limb to capture her." His voice was a low growl, like a tiger; threatening and dull. "The book. You had it under your hand and then you allowed a muggle to outwit you…"

"A muggle?" Draco questioned. Snape turned quickly and stood so close to the boy that Draco drew in his breath sharply.

"Squib…muggle…she has no magical powers. And you allowed someone so low to outwit you..." He could feel Snape's breath in his hair as the wizard spoke and fought the urge to run out of the room in disgust. Instead, he hung his head.

"My father won't speak to me," he mumbled. "He returns my letters; refuses to take my floo…"

"Your father feels you to be a disgrace. He feels…shame…that your inaction was…ignoble…" Snape stepped back and looked away from Draco towards the potion that was simmering promisingly. Of the two it was the latter of which he was most satisfied at present.

"They will be able to catch Frobisher, won't they?" Draco took a step towards the potion, looking at it interestedly. "Father said she would be taken care of…" Snape darted a look at Draco sharply before looking back at the potion.

"Marvellous, isn't it? Exactly to specification and untraceable…" He took a long implement similar to a ladle and stirred the potion gently before scooping up an aliquot and holding it up.

"…and I will be undertaking what is necessary with respect to Mrs Frobisher…" Snapping his fingers a clear glass vial appeared in his hand and he poured it into glowing potion.

"But father said…" began Draco, looking at the potion carefully. "You told us not to go near her again…" he continued, changing tack. "That what was in store was worth waiting for…that it would help me win back my father's respect…"

"It would have, had she not disappeared…"

"And now?" Draco looked at the remainder of the potion in the cauldron, bending over it as Snape had done a few moments ago, before recoiling at the acrid aroma emanating from it.

"She is being pursued." Clicking his fingers again, another vial. Snape pushed Draco out of the way and ladled in another portion, spilling a couple of drops onto the stone floor, causing the granite to erode where they fell.

"And they will, er…kill her?" Draco asked hopefully.

"They will extract what is needed from her."

"And _then_ they will kill her."

Snape looked at Draco Malfoy, his eyes narrowing in contempt.

"Then…what is left…will be mine…"

88888888

The man who had stopped for her at the junction of the A21 and the M1 motorway had seemed a bit on edge and when Cecilia climbed into the cab of the articulated lorry and he explained in a thick, Yorkshire accent that he picked up few hitchhikers, and even fewer who were female.

It had still been dark when the lorry had pulled over, Cecilia recalled as she relaxed into the sprung-nylon seat, glancing in the early dawnlight at the pictures the driver had all over his cab; presumably of family and looking to be of various places they had visited together.

"So, where yer going to, love?" he asked, as he indicated right onto the deserted motorway. "Gary," he said, glancing at her as he reached down to change gear.

"Ce – Sissy," replied Cecilia, trying to stifle a yawn. "I can pay you for the lift," she continued, looking out of the window as the rows of managed hedges that lined the grass verges whipped past.

"Wouldn't hear o' it," said Gary, glancing into the rear-view mirror. "What's a lass doing out by the motorway this time of night?"

"Trains," she replied, intermeshing her fingers into a ball. "Don't know what's wrong with them."

"Oh?" said Gary. "Where yer goin'?"

"London." She smiled at the driver, a middle-aged man in a tartan shirt, balding at the front and he leaned down to change gear again.

"London," he repeated, looking at his right-hand mirror and indicating right again. "There's been a power cut on the East coast line. The trains at night've been cancelled. Got Railtrack men out there tryin' to fix it for nigh on a week. Where've you been as you've not 'eard about it?" He looked across at Cecilia before turning the steering wheel of the lorry and manoeuvring it to the centre lane and looking out of the windscreen again.

"Away," said Cecilia truthfully.

"Well," said Gary, accelerating past a Rover estate car which appeared to be doing around forty in the left-hand lane. "Relax a bit, love. It'll be about five hours till we get to the M25."

As the lorry, containing goods destined for the continent, made its way steadily but swiftly down the main arterial highway to the capital its sedative motion caused Cecilia to relax. Gary, who clearly didn't have company very often, talked to her intermittently.

At first she replied, engaging him in conversation, but as the journey progressed Cecilia began to stare out of the window, missing what he was saying. He didn't seem to mind however, and as Gary discussed the contemporary news issues of the day, her mind drifted to silent contemplation and reflection; and not just of her work, but about her life and other philosophical issues.

"…well, my mate Mick reckons if it gets to 70p a litre we'll be protesting again…"

…she was going to London. To find Godric's Hollow. The home where Harry Potter's parents were murdered by Voldermort sixteen years ago…

Mansfield, seven miles away. Cecilia glanced at the clock, set upon the dashboard. Quarter to six. So they'd be in London by around eleven. Nodding at Gary, she looked back out of the window…

…Green Lane. That had to be on a map…on an Underground Map. So if she could get to a station, she could find out where it is. And then navigate the London tube system to get there…

It can't be that simple, stupid.

But no-one knows where you are…

"…we 'ave to be careful, you know? We don't want to disrupt other folk. Well, we do. It's bread and butter, like." He reached down and changed gear to fifth.

"And the Prime Minister's out next time. He's got some good ideas, but the party's full of rot." Gary reached down and into a packet of glacier mints. "Help yourself," he added.

"'Course, what we need is a breath of fresh air…and 'e's the one to do it...charismatic young man." Cecilia nodded in Gary's direction again. "I suppose with bein' away you never 'eard 'is speech." She shook her head. "Education, education, education…"

…it can't be that simple…

Cecilia exhaled slowly. She'd read about the political situation in the books but now, sitting here with someone whose whole life was tied up with the decisions that were made by the government, it was a different situation. It was relevant.

Gary glanced at Cecilia who had turned to the window again before turning up the radio slightly and lapsing into silence.

…perhaps she should have waited in Sheffield. The turning for Mansfield.

…perhaps it was stupid to hitchhike….no-one knows where you are…

Cecilia sighed, watching a piece of loose gaffer tape flap by the passenger-side mirror as she contemplated the journey ahead. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, however. At least she was alive…

…Nottingham…thirty six miles. Considering her near-misses over the last few months, hitchhiking seemed positively sane…

For the first time since Christmas Day she felt safe. She was in her world now and there wasn't a blessed wizard in sight…her world…

Cecilia closed her eyes and within seconds she was asleep; the worries of her mind transforming themselves into lucid dreams as the weak winter sun broke onto the horizon and irradiated her face…

88888888

"If she is not already in London, then she will be making her way there." Dumbledore got to his feet and placed the eight letters he had in his hand down on the table. Each was addressed to him, and each from a different member of the Order of the Phoenix.

"You are certain of this, then? She had been seen?" Minerva McGonagall walked hastily from her position near the door of Dumbledore's office, approaching his desk.

"No," said Dumbledore serenely, looking back at the letters as he made his way towards his fireplace. "Following her disappearance last night, she has not been seen by anyone."

"Then how – " Dumbledore held up a hand.

"What does your heart tell you, Minerva? She has worked alongside us for a good few months now." Professor McGonagall stopped.

What do I think? It doesn't matter what I think, Albus. It matters about the battle we have planned. It matters about the students of this school and that they are safe. Not that I have any reason to doubt they would be…

It matters that we cannot quite predict exactly what Mrs Frobisher is going to do because what we have asked her to do is so far-reaching…

"Tonks has reported on Edgeford again. She was not there." She spoke steadily and evenly now and Dumbledore nodded.

"Then we should be grateful that we still have her." Dumbledore turned from the fireplace to look at Professor McGonagall. "I do not know for certain that she heads for Godric's Hollow however for Harry's sake and indeed for the sake of our relations with muggles, we must work on the premise that she has. We must trust her."

Professor McGonagall did not reply immediately. Her mind was focused on the inflammable letters which that she held in her hand. Whose contents, though were not howlers, were grave.

"Should she succeed Albus, then quite a large number of the Order have said that they wish her to be expelled from the Order." Minerva held out a sheet of parchment in Dumbledore's direction. He nodded.

"I expected as much. However much sooner than this." He took the parchment from her hand, raising his bushy right eyebrow as he scanned down it, nodding as he went.

"It joins the others," he continued, folding the parchment in two as he walked towards his desk.

"There are others?"

"Did you ever doubt that deep down many would disapprove of Mrs Frobisher's science? Can you stand before me and claim you yourself are free of doubts?" McGonagall watched Dumbledore place the parchment on the others that lay on the leather-covered area of his desk.

"Well, I – " she stopped.

"All I need to know is that you still trust in my judgment, Minerva." He followed her glance from the letters and Minerva looked at him.

"Of course," she replied, nodding slowly.

"Leave this with me and I will deal with it."

"Thank you, Albus." Minerva McGonagall nodded again then turned, walking towards the door. Putting her hand on the handle, she paused for a briefly before sweeping her tartan-lined flying robe over her shoulder and opening the door.

Dumbledore picked up the list from his desk again and looked at the names that were written thereon. Then he replaced it, walking towards the fireplace and reaching into a small pot that resided adjacent for some green powder. A few moments later green flames crackled in the hearth.

"Mrs Weasley, would it be possible to speak to Arthur for a few moments? If he's not left for work, that is?"

88888888

…two girls were sitting by a lake…they were chatting and laughing. The sun beat down and filled the scene with glorious rays. The grass was green…the cloudless sky blue…the girls were laughing harder now…looking through a magazine and pointing at it periodically...

…one of the girls turned onto her stomach, glancing down at her nails…they changed colour as she blinked at them…blue…pink…burgundy… The other girl turned too, looking up mischievously over her sunglasses…and then down at her friend's nails, nodding approving at the lilac, before blinking her own eyes at them…now both girls were laughing at the two-inch long scarlet talons…

…now another two girls…this time sitting in a bedroom as sunlight beamed through a window onto an open book…laughing and giggling, pointing at the pages…aged twelve…hugging each other and looking at a piece of paper…exam results…giggling about sneaking out of the house when they should be in bed…one girl…sitting on her own...in the darkness…holding a letter…"Sorry. Goodbye"…

The motion of the lorry lulled Cecilia into consciousness and the flapping tape came into view. And past that, the a sign.

"Hatfield."

Cecilia blinked in the morning sunlight and turned to look at the clock on the dashboard. Half past ten. The driver of the lorry looked at her and she realised she had spoken the name of the road sign aloud.

"Where in London, love?" Gary leaned over to change down gear as they approached heavy traffic in front of them. Cecilia looked at the tail lights that lit up the morning, and further on, shifting in the passenger seat of the lorry.

"The next service station's fine," said Cecilia, shuffling to untighten a few muscles in her back. "Are you sure I can't give you any money for the petrol?"

"No, love. 's not me as paying the fuel, like." Gary smiled at her quickly before looking back at the traffic. "And I'm not leaving no woman stranded at no service station. Where in London you going?" Cecilia glanced at him, and swallowed.

"Not sure. It's near a tube line." Cecilia looked at the driver again. "Green Lane. have you heard of it?"

"No," he replied. "But there's a map back there, where your bags are. At the back there's one of the Underground."

…an hour and a half later and Cecilia got out of the articulated lorry onto a conifer-lined street, thanking Gary the driver profusely. They had driven from the motorway south west of the city and Cecilia had to hold her tongue from checking every five minutes that he was happy to do it.

The street was quite busy; it was near some shops, and further still, a football stadium and he had told Cecilia that it would soon be rubble. Cecilia had been horrified, and Gary had laughed, commenting that she really must have been away for several months if she didn't know Wembley stadium was going to be rebuilt!

Then Cecilia crossed the road and walked towards the shops, glancing behind her as she hoisted both of her bags onto her shoulder as the huge lorry rumbled off into the distance before she sank down onto the bench.

Now…

…now she was here…

…what next?

Across the road was a newsagent-cum-supermarket with a cash point next to it. To her left the street widened and the greenery densed where Wembley stadium was, just behind it. To her right the traffic-lighted crossroads where old ladies, mums with prams and a couple of teenagers were walking across the pelican crossings.

A bit further down a pair of phone boxes, a postbox and bus shelter. And further still some more shops…

Now to find Green Lane, and the house next to it. The ruined house. And speed up the potion-making process.

Cecilia got to her feet and looked in the opposite direction of the stadium. Here we go. Green Lane. The die is cast…

…and then she sat back down again, a pang of concern in her stomach.

What would happen when she found it? Would this count as her telling someone? Would she be walking along the pavement and forget everything because they have not done what she has asked? Would she end up being like those people you read about in the paper who've lost their memory and are found wandering round the streets and not be able to remember her name?

Cecilia glanced across the street again. One of the mums with a pram had paused to look in the window of a shop, holding a toddler on reigns from running off. She watched her turn and acknowledge another lady with a pram as they engaged in what seemed like a friendly conversation.

…and here she was, watching them. In a suburb of London. Here to do a job to make something better. Time to find Green Lane and do what must be done…

But not before you've called Nick and checked it's OK, and got some money out for the train to Birmingham, a little voice told Cecilia. Because you've got to get the sample analysed before you go back to Hogwarts…

And not before you've had something to eat, said another voice, more urgent than the others and more quickly subdued and as she pulled her bags to her shoulder again Cecilia realised it had been a full twenty four hours since she had eaten lunch, at midday, at Hogwarts.

Crossing the road carefully, she narrowly avoided the lairy teenagers who had chosen to cross the next road without using the crossing, laughing in their wake as she glared teacherly at them before making her way into the shop.

I'll have something to eat then call Nick, Cecilia decided as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the last of her change to pay for the cheese sandwich, which looked about the nicest the small shop had to offer.

"One fifty-five," said the lady behind the counter. "Would you like a bag for that?" Cecilia shook her head.

"I'll be eating it in a minute," she added, handing the woman the correct money. "It'll be a waste." She put the sandwich into her bag and turned to go, before looking back up at the woman.

"How far is it to Green Lane tube line?" The woman looked up and frowned, holding up the fifty pence piece Cecilia had just given to her for the sandwich.

"This is an old one," said the woman sharply, "I'll have to ask you for another." She held it out to Cecilia.

"I don't have any more," said Cecilia, reaching back into her bag. "You'll have to have this back." She placed it on the counter, and reached towards the coin.

"No matter, no matter," said the woman, closing her hand. "I'll take it for now; I wouldn't want to see you go hungry." She looked down at the till and pressed a few buttons.

"But if you get any more, you'll need to take them to the bank and change them; didn't you know the deadline was the first of February?" she pointed a bony finger towards a small black and white photocopy of a poster on the noticeboard behind her.

"These are what we have now, small ones," the woman added, holding up a much smaller version of the coin that Cecilia had given to her. "At least it's the same shape. At least – " the woman leaned towards Cecilia, " – it's still money I recognise. Not like the stupid foreign coins. Ecus, or Euros, ore whatever they want to introduce _over there_ – " she pointed out through the window.

"Now, where was it you wanted?" Cecilia smiled again, picking up the sandwich gratefully.

"Green Lane. Do you know where it is?"

88888888

By her reckoning Cecilia had absorbed at least a couple of pints of rainwater by the time she had walked to the tube station. Taking shelter underneath the Victorian-style veranda that stood in front of the tiled ticket booths.

Directly in front of her, through the rain, Cecilia stared at a field. Beyond the view of the misty rain, beyond the children's playground, was her destination.

It had taken her only half an hour to walk to the station but she had been standing out of the rain for another half an hour, watching the rain pour as the water her clothing had absorbed rejoined the rest of the torrent, running down her legs and ankles.

Her destination. She need only to walk across the road, through the park and further on…and she would be there…

The rain continued to sheet as she glanced back up the road. And once she had it, she needed to go home. She needed her friend Nick Smith's help again…

…and it would be done. An act that most of the wizards whom she claimed to be helping would, if they did not already, revile her for…

"It's a job. It's business. Don't get involved."

Cecilia spoke the words aloud as she turned to head in the direction of the telephone boxes that she had walked past half an hour ago, catching her bedraggled and unkempt appearance in the reflection of the advertising hoardings that stood at the entrance to the tube station.

It was no wonder that woman in the shop had taken pity on her with the sandwich when she looked such a sight.

Walking out of the shelter of the station and back onto the street, the rain began to soak through her damp clothing again as she made her way to the telephone boxes. Pulling her bags inside, she dumped them at her feet and picked up the receiver and threw in the last twenty pence piece, dialling a number.

At the other end, the phone began to ring. She'd call Nick next, Cecilia told herself. Right after she'd spoken to Libby. After she'd told her the work was nearly over and to expect her back in a couple of weeks.

A minute passed and the phone continued to ring and Cecilia looked through the condensation-lined glass of the box and out onto the street as the cars passing by skimmed through the fast-forming puddles in the road.

No answer. That wasn't right. Libby worked from home, and Freya would be at school still. Why wasn't she answering?

Pulling on the hook, Cecilia listened to the sound of the tone for a few seconds before putting in the twenty pence coin again that had been rejected from the first unanswered call.

The rings continued for a few moments and Cecilia looked out at the traffic again. What was happening here? Nick, who finished work at midday, was not answering either. With a sigh of frustration, Cecilia made to hang up the phone again. Then stopped.

"Hello?" The voice at the other end sounded tired, distracted.

"Nick?" The tone of Cecilia's voice changed and she was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude.

"Hm? Yes?"

"Nick! It's Cecilia!"

"Cecilia? Oh, hi. I was just…in bed…" Cecilia heard a yawn.

"Nick! Sorry…" Cecilia felt her elation be replaced with realising guilt. "Sorry to wake you. I've tried Libby but there's no answer." The words were spilling out from her mind without discrimination. "You don't know where she might be, do you? And I need to ask you if you could do me another favour…it was just, well…I've – " she trailed off when she realised that there was no reply at the other end.

"Er…sorry Cecilia. I'm a bit busy just now. Caught up in something." His voice sounded clipped; it wasn't his usual manner. She said nothing for a moment.

"Oh." She swallowed. "Another time then?"

"Yes," he said.

"Bye." The phone clicked dead.

Looking at the receiver again, Cecilia replaced it on the hook, staring at the plastic bar that displayed the number of the phone. Then she pushed on the door and stepped out onto the pavement, pulling up her now-weighty bags onto her shoulder again and made her way back to the station.

The rain was beginning to clear as she stood under the veranda again and Cecilia looked across to the park again. Well, it's understandable if he's come off shift, she reassured herself. Think of what you were like. And Libby can't help it if she had to go out…

The dark looked full of rain again and Cecilia watched a pair of toddlers on a see-saw demonstrating the law of moments to perfection, supervised by a tall woman in a black and white coat, smiling at them in turn.

Thoughts began to crowd in her mind again as she looked past them and in the direction of her destination, the way apparent now since the misty rain had cleared.

Cecilia turned right and walked briskly over the zebra crossing and opened the gate that led into the park.

"Thank you," said a woman, holding the hand of a young child as Cecilia pushed it open for her. Cecilia nodded, fighting to clear her mind as she proceeded along the sandy-coloured gravel path.

…you're here to do a job…nothing more…forget everything from the memory…his memory…it's a job, she smiled at the woman with the children on the see-saw…a task…

Past the playground she walked, over the damp grass that redrenched her shoes. Over the hillcrest, and beyond it a railway, the south west line. One of Brunel's major triumphs.

And on Cecilia walked…

…and in her view appeared the ruin of a house.

Godric's Hollow. She stopped.

It was not how Cecilia expected the house to be. In the memory it had been surrounded by other houses, and seemed to be in a group of other houses. Now the ruin, fenced off with barbed wire and hung with "Keep Out" and "Danger" signs seemed forbidding, almost forgotten, as if the trees surrounding it were slowly consuming it.

A breeze whipped past Cecilia as she looked at the house, and she realised that a train was speeding along the railway line. Glancing in its direction as it lulled her out of her trance and drips of another impending rain storm landed on her head and face.

…and the rain began to drop intermittently as Cecilia dumped her bags by the first "Danger" sign, climbing round a broken tree dropping into the ruins of the building. If she could locate where the front door would have been sixteen years ago, she would have more of a chance of finding a sample of Lily Potter…blood…hair…skin…

…purposefully Cecilia walked around the grounds of the ruin. There wasn't much left there now, compared to what she remembered seeing. The walls of the ground floor stood ragged; the bricks like teeth. Like castle crenulations. As if most of it had been torn away.

…the rain began to pour now as Cecilia looked round at what remained. A house. A home. The remains of the brown, red and cream carpet, folded at the corner and mouldy. Some floor tiles from the kitchen. A broken brown bowl hidden under a mossy overgrowth.

And now the sight hit Cecilia in the stomach as she finally understood the sensitive nature of what she was undertaking. And why many, who did not understand science, were so opposed. The house was destroyed, as if left to decompose. Like a corpse exposed to erosion.

They must trust her…

Cecilia walked through the rubble and detritus, her mind focused on her quarry. Even after all this time there would be something. Wiping her hair from her face that was getting slowly sodden with rain her eye caught some bricks which looked like they had fallen from the first storey.

She trudged over to it, pulling away the wild woodland with her hands. A sample, that was all she needed. Just a stain of blood…

…the bracken and dead brambles tore at the back of her hands as she fought to free the bricks from its hold…

…so much time wizards have spent talking about blood…Cecilia sucked at the back of her left hand as the rain washed a trickle of her own down onto her jeans…half blood…pure blood…muddy blood….all in the blood…

…it is all in the blood…

And in front of her eyes, a pile of broken bricks, coated in plaster which in turn was covered in wallpaper, fresh as Cecilia's memory, pink and white, with dark dog-roses…and a dark brown patch that interrupted the decorative aesthetics of the pattern. Lily Potter had been lying by this wall, she recalled, her head staved in and body broken…

The rainstorm quelled suddenly, going from sheeting water to drips again and from her pocket, Cecilia pulled a small Ziploc sample bag which she had taken with her from the laboratory back in October, picking up the small piece of wall.

Stowing it away in her pocket, Cecilia rose to her full height, looking around her again. Harry would benefit from the work; her logical informed her coldly.

But there was only so far she could be Richelieuian about it all. The boy had stood in front of her night after night, telling her hard, difficult and painful truths…telling her everything he knew…

She bent back down and emptied the piece of brick back near where she had found it. It had humbled her to tears a few months ago. There was another way…

Cecilia pushed the empty bag back into her jeans and turned, looking through the ruined wall at the near-side of the house, through to the crest of the hill that she had walked over, further still to the terraced buildings that lined the street near the tube station.

…and now the rain began to drip from the trees above her as Cecilia slowly picked her way back through the rubble and debris, trying not to catch her feet on the uneven remains before sinking to a sitting position in the place where she had calculated the kitchen to be…

…as the rain began to fall heavily Cecilia became saturated in it...

…would they believe her again if she were to return to Hogwarts, telling them that she hadn't taken a sample, but to trust her…

…and then she would be working with Snape again, working harder than she had done before, in order to…do what she needed to do. Cecilia felt her heart pound at the thought, and she refused to dwell on it…was she even brave enough to do it…for she would be doing it alone…

…and if she wasn't…if she went home…what then? There had been so many changes in the past month alone…her home…her world…it was so alien to her…even her friends were strangers…

It was only when the rain began to taste salty that she realised it was her own tears and she picked up a piece of broken plate from the derelict kitchen, holding it so tightly to her hand that the felt the sharp edge cut in…

…and felt a hand on her shoulder as the rain stopped suddenly…

"Get up, Mrs Frobisher and come with me. You'll catch your death if you sit there much longer."

88888888

"There, that's much better." Arthur Weasley handed her a towel with which to wipe her face, putting her soaking bags out of the rain. "And it'd be better still if you came inside."

Ten yards from where the back door of the house would have been, facing the railway line, Cecilia peered inside what seemed to be a frontless tent where Mr Weasley had gone, which was facing the south west railway line.

"Good afternoon," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, looking up from the book he was reading and smiling in her direction, then at Mr Weasley, who had sat in the chair next to him.

Cecilia said nothing. Quite apart from the fact that these were two people she least expected to see what was more astonishing was the fact they were sitting in a tent on camping chairs wearing deerstalker hats and anoraks outside the wreckage of Godric's Hollow.

"Is that all you need?" Mr Weasley nodded in the direction of the broken brown porcelain that Cecilia still had in her hand. She nodded dumbly.

"Can't see what all the fuss was about," he looked at Cecilia, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you all right yourself? You gave us all a mighty shock, running away," he added. Cecilia felt shame fill her stomach.

"I'm fine," said Cecilia, relatively speaking, she added to herself silently. "Mr Weasley, why are you here?..." she glanced out of the tent, "…and why is the rain doing that?" The rain seemed to be curving around them, soaking the grass a yard in front of them yet by her feet it was bone dry.

"A simple umbrella charm," said Mr Weasley, getting to his feet and stepping towards her. He stuck his hand through the interface. "Wet out there, but nice and dry in here."

"And imperturbable," added Kingsley, waving frantically to a man who was walking his dog down the small footpath that led back to the park and children's play area. He grinned at Arthur as the man walked past, ignoring Shacklebolt's exaggerated gestures.

"Mr Weasley," Cecilia turned to him, preparing to ask him a direct question. "How did you know I was here?" To his credit, the wizard smiled and, Dumbledore-like, returned to his camping chair, contemplating Cecilia's question.

"Dumbledore knew you were gone and requested as many of the Order who could be spared to try to find you. It wasn't difficult to guess you would find your way here sooner or later." Cecilia felt her face flush.

"And besides, I couldn't possibly leave a fellow trainspotter abandoned out here on her own, could I?" He tapped the third camping chair and wearily, Cecilia sat in it.

"Besides, we are on business," continued Kingsley, putting his open book face-down on a small collapsible table, interlocking his long, black fingers. "Misuse of muggle artefacts." He pointed in the direction of the railway line where two teenage muggle boys were making their way down the embankment towards the tracks. Arthur Weasley grinned.

"We would be amiss in our duty if we did not investigate all incidents of misuse of muggle artefacts. Especially if the said artefacts are being misused by muggles." Cecilia felt her heart lurch as she watched one of the boys approach the points on the line appearing to be trying to jam something between them.

"Have you seen any good trains today?" she asked conversationally, trying to prevent the welling tears from leaking down her face again. "I heard an express go past a while ago."

"No, not much," said Kingsley slowly, looking from Cecilia to the two boys. "A few long-distance, the one half an hour ago. But all far too late."

"Fifty years too late!" added Mr Weasley. "I remember my father bringing me here to watch the steams." He shook his head sadly. "Shame old Beeching got rid of them all." Cecilia sunk back in her chair. Wizard trainspotters, she thought, shaking her head.

"Terrible," she added, holding on to her composure for dear life. Why were they here…trainspotting?

"Indeed," said Kingsley, turning back to Cecilia. "Dreadful. Now, would you like some tea?"

Before Cecilia had a chance to answer, Mr Weasley had handed her a cup.

"No milk," he said, glancing at Kingsley. "See, I remembered," he added proudly. Cecilia nodded.

"So you were waiting for me to arrive." Cecilia stated the situation as she saw it. The wizards looked at one another, nodding in synchronicity.

"To stop me. To take me home. To take me back to Hogwarts." Mr Weasley moved his chair closer to Cecilia, bending his head low and whispering to her.

"We have something for you." He glanced back up at Kingsley. "But before we, or rather Kingsley goes into that..." Mr Weasley's voice became lower still, "we just wanted to know…how you managed to find your way here all by yourself?"

"The public transport system was well-covered," continued Kingsley. "I should know, I organised it. But you seem to have evaded it," he added, annoyed. Cecilia exhaled, pulling the towel Mr Weasley had given to her to dry off with between her hands before reaching for her tea. Both wizards looked at her expectantly.

"I hitchhiked," she said eventually, looking between them both. Mr Weasley and Shacklebolt looked at each other in confusion.

"Itch-eyked," repeated Mr Weasley. "What mode of transport is that?" Cecilia looked at him in amazemement.

"Hitchhiked," she repeated. "Hitched a lift." He shook his head and smiled, perplexed.

"I stood by the side of the road," said Cecilia patiently, "and stuck my thumb out. It's a signal to drivers that you want a lift somewhere. Sometimes they drive past," she added, recalling the red Ford Escort that had raced past her just outside Sheffield full of twenty-something boys after a night out, "but sometimes they stop."

"Well, I always told Dumbledore that muggles are resourceful," said Mr Weasley, continuing to smile. "That is indeed an excellent means of transport."

"If a little dangerous," added Kingsley, looking out of the tent at the two boys on the embankment who had retreated further up near the fence that enclosed the housing estate opposite. The whistle of a train indicated its imminent passing and, as it came into view, Mr Weasley got to his feet and pulled out his wand, shooting a bolt of orange light towards the object blocking the points.

The object flew into the air, landing at the feet of the boy who put it there as the train whizzed by unhindered. The boys looked across in their direction, then at one another before tearing off at speed into the housing estate.

"Misuse of muggle artefacts," nodded Kingsley towards Arthur Weasley, who was grinning with satisfaction in the boys' direction, "under section 3, article seven of the Muggle Protection Act, 1956. Very good aim, Arthur."

Cecilia looked down at the tarpaulined floor, stifling a wry smile and her feeling of mirth changed quickly to melancholy.

"So I'm here," she said quietly, "having obtained my sample. Would you mind, before you inform me of what it is that you wish to inform me, telling me what caused such destruction to the Potters' house?"

"My dear girl," exclaimed Arthur Weasley, sitting on the camping chair next to Cecilia. "You mean to tell me that…no-one had actually told you about Halloween night, of 1981?" Cecilia shook her head.

"I know about Vol – "

"Don't say his name!" said both wizards together, loudly. Cecilia swallowed, picking up the towel again.

"I know about…the events involving Harry," Cecilia corrected herself, "but such devastation…?"

"Arthur," said Shacklebolt, a tone of warning in his voice.

"No, Kingsley," said Arthur, "we have more to tell her than this. And if she doesn't know, we are should not keep it from her. She is an Order member, after all. Come on."

They proceeded out of the tent, and back round to the ruins of the house, stepping amongst the ruins in complete dryness as Shacklebolt extended the bubble around the ruins and overhanging trees….

Mr Weasley proceeded to describe the most terrible events that followed Voldermort's departure from Godric's Hollow; how Sirius Black had alerted Dumbledore to the event after following Peter Pettigrew; and how Remus Lupin had arrived at almost the same time.

How the hiding place had been chosen as a location and the Potters' family home had been transplanted here from Bristol when James had gained a job as an Auror, and how it had been enchanted as a hiding place when Voldermort had discovered that Harry was a threat to him.

How the rest of the Order arrived, before the Ministry officials, recording the devastation and seeking information that would lead them to Voldermort's location. How Dumbledore had taken away Harry to safety and he – Mr Weasley – and Mrs Weasley had taken young Tonks away with them, who Sirius had been babysitting and brought with him, to spare her the horror and terror.

How Death Eaters descended upon the house after the Order had arrived and a pitched battle had ensued, causing more and more destruction. How it had taken the fall of power of Voldermort for the strength of the Death Eaters to fail in front of their own eyes before the Order could drive them away.

How the Ministry declared the area to be, as a magical scene of crime, out of bounds until what remained had been investigated

"Abandoned," said Mr Weasley, stepping through the threshold of the kitchen, over the decrepit carpet fragments. "The enquiry is still open, and the place is still officially 'under investigation', according to Ministry records. Kingsley's department," he added, winking at Shacklebolt.

"Indeed," confirmed the huge wizard, glancing critically amongst the ruins. "And you have what you need," he added. Cecilia nodded, tapping her jeans pocket.

"And you have your reasons," continued Arthur, leading them back to the tent. "Not all of us believe you to be…what you were so spitefully declared. This is our main motivation for pursuing our work out of doors this afternoon," he added, winking at Shacklebolt, before casting his wand over Cecilia's tea, making it steam again.

Sitting down, Arthur gestured towards the camping chair that Cecilia had sat on earlier and he looked across to Shacklebolt who had taken the third.

"Mrs Frobisher," Kingsley began, turning towards Cecilia, his voice gravelley and official-sounding. "Do you recall writing this – " he held out a sheet of paper which contained what seemed to be Cecilia's handwriting, " – in connection with these?" He held out some more papers. Cecilia scrutinised both.

"Pompops Pomfrey's notes!" she exclaimed, looking back at Shacklebolt. "And my request to Snobbits! But – " she stopped, looking at the letter in her writing, "I wrote these ages ago! I totally forgot about them." Arthur Weasley put his hand on her arm.

"Snobbits sent the information to the Ministry," he said quietly. "The runic interpretations to the Department of Communication for further examination." He inhaled, taking his hand off Cecilia's arm and taking off his deerstalker hat.

"The department," he said slowly, "that is managed by my son Percy…" Mr Weasley's voice trailed off and Cecilia looked down at his knuckles, which were turning white as he gripped his hat ferociously. "Who, I'm ashamed to say attempted to ensure it was permanently lost."

"Not so permanent, I hasten to add," said Kingsley and Cecilia turned from Mr Weasley's ever reddening face to Kingsley's solemn expression. "The information requested by Snobbits appeared to have fallen down the back of a filing cabinet. Sturgis Podmore managed to get hold of them as the old parchments were being cleared out in a spring-clean." Cecilia looked down at them again.

"A pity no-one got round to interpreting them," Cecilia said quietly, looking at the strange characters that adorned the aged parchments.

"They didn't?" From his robe, Kingsley Shacklebolt pulled out another sheet of paper, folded into four and handed it to her. "Then I have the sad duty to inform Podmore that the three weeks he has spent going through all of these have been utterly wasted."

Cecilia looked at him, feeling her mouth fall open. Of course. He said as much at Christmas.

"Once Podmore had interpreted them they too went missing, only for me to discover they had been collected up with taxation documents which were due to be destroyed. I endeavoured to get them to you as soon as I could but Dumbledore informed me you were gone…"

Cecilia's heart began to race and she could feel herself smiling. She looked down at the paper and began to open it. Mr Weasley put his hand on hers. Cecilia looked at him.

"There's more," he continued, looking urgent. "And before you are informed of it I feel it is important to say that knowing this information is not very good for the health. No-one should be know that you know this…even the Order don't know we're here…" Cecilia nodded.

"I understand, Mr Weasley. I'll take the risk." She saw him hesitate.

"All right," he replied, taking his hand off hers. "Kingsley, perhaps you could take over from here?" Cecilia looked from Mr Weasley to Shacklebolt, leaning back in the camping chair in anticipation.

"The information Podmore found out concerns the information you shared at the Order meeting," he began, sitting forward on the chair. "You told us of Raymond Lully, and mentioned the word Reciprocator." Cecilia found herself nodding.

"In the paper you hold, Pompops Pomfrey tells of his involvement with his work, in the hospital with muggles. It was in his capacity as a Reciprocator that he undertook the work through Raymond Lully…"

And over the course of the next hour, Kingsley Shacklebolt took Cecilia through the information revealed in Pompops's notes; about Lully's recruitment of an Oswald T. Avery, a Death Eater; how Lully positioned him favourably with Watson and Crick in order to develop the research into DNA; how Avery's treachery led to Lully's assassination; how Lully worked with muggle scientists in the same way that Reciprocators had done right back to the first…

…how Joseph Black, indeed related to Sirius; how Reciprocators began as pureblood wizards in a quest for communication and mutual advancement. How he worked with Watt…

"…but Joseph Black hated muggles," said Cecilia quietly. "Yes, he made some scientific discoveries, but he also put through anti-muggle legislation." Shacklebolt nodded in agreement.

"Black and Watt went their separate ways. Reciprocators and muggle scientists had, until then, worked with each other to mutual advantage. But Black thought Watt was power-hungry, and when he realised the potential of the industrial power Watt was proposing, for industry and the economy of Britain at the time, he felt threatened."

Cecilia nodded slowly, thinking of the communication and industrial advancements of the time. Things were changing rapidly indeed. And for someone who was not directly affected it could look very dangerous…

"He spoke to others of his family, who warned him that Watt would cause muggles to become more powerful than wizards through science and technology. The breaking point came when his daughter Honoria sought his permission to marry a muggle."

"But…" Cecilia looked down at the notes in her hand. "This information – "

"Most of it is contained therein, yes," said Shacklebolt. "Or at least alluded to. The letters were passed down Pompops's family and kept safe, if unreadable. Reciprocators were, and still are, against the law."

"But we know more about Joseph Black now," said Mr Weasley, getting to his feet. "You are aware of the Black family motto, are you not?" Cecilia thought back to the family tree tapestry that was on the wall of the living room at Grimmauld Place.

""Torjours Pur"? Forever pure?" Mr Weasley nodded.

"This has been their motto for nearly a thousand years. In the past, being a pure blood wizard didn't hold the connotations it does now. However for a time, in response to his growing resentment to all muggle people Joseph Black changed the motto, which was taken up by his grand-daughter – " Cecilia jumped to her feet, holding the papers and letters in her hand tighter.

"Cruor in potentia! In blood is power!"

At once, the stubby threads of trails she had pursued for months before Christmas sprang to life like the ends of optical fibres as the dormant information knitted perfectly with the new threads donated carefully and clearly by the two wizards.

"So reviled was Black by what he saw as treachery by Watt, of Black's perception of Watt's steam engine as a means of muggles gaining more power through technology, he broke from the reciprocators and through the Wizengamot declared them illegal." Kingsley turned to address Cecilia. "His daughter eventually married a pureblood wizard from France by the name of –"

"Malfoy!" shouted Cecilia in realisation, looking at Kingsley. He nodded slowly.

"Malfus Malfoy," clarified Mr Weasley. "They took it as their family motto; to honour their father's new found…_view_ of muggles. However the motto was chosen to read "power upon bloodshed"…that by killing muggles, wizard power would grow stronger."

It made sense. Cecilia clutched the papers tighter.

"You know," said Mr Weasley, getting to his feet, "If you hadn't given Ron that book, and he hadn't been as keen in muggle scientists as he is; and he hadn't spent the whole of Christmas trying to talk to everyone he could about James Watt, then we wouldn't have caught on…" Suddenly, he patted Cecilia on the back, grinning at Kingsley.

"So actually, in a roundabout way, Mrs Frobisher, you solved the mystery after all," said Shacklebolt.

Cecilia stared out of the front of the tent, through the sheet of rain that was pouring round them and began to walk through it, the rain soaking her through as she watched another train, this time freight, whiz past on the track below. She could feel the tears coming thick and fast as the burden of responsibility began to sink into her mind.

It made sense. Absolute sense. It explained such a lot.

Another train went by, as the rain teemed round her. And it didn't matter any more. It affected her work in the past, certainly. But it was just academic now. She patted her pocket that contained the innocuous piece of broken pottery, knowing that she would be despised by more than just a few wizards for possessing it.

It didn't matter, though. The answer lay on a different path.

Cecilia turned just as another train raced along the track, and took a few steps back inside the tent, smiling to herself as Mr Weasley and Shacklebolt scribbled down something on what looked suspiciously like an engine-number parchment.

"Four fifteen," said Mr Weasley to Shacklebolt as he wrote down the time, before looking at Cecilia. "Oh, here you are," he said, handing Cecilia another towel. This one was warm and soft, and Cecilia held it to her chest, gratefully.

"Thank you," she said, "both of you." Cecilia smiled at them both before holding out her hand towards Kingsley Shacklebolt, who took it carefully, jerking his arm as she shook it.

"Well, Mrs Frobisher," said Mr Weasley, tapping her on the shoulder. "You have what you need, and our information. What are you going to do now?"

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"Mr Weasley, are you sure this isn't dangerous?!" Cecilia's shouted words hit her back in the face as the wind whipped past her face.

The ground below her seemed to be travelling at speed, and although she felt relatively safe on the back of a magical broomstick travelling North at speed behind Arthur Weasley, there was another thought at the back of her mind, urgent and strong, that was trying to tell her hindbrain that perhaps this wasn't absolutely the best mode of transport back to Hogwarts.

To the left of them, Kingsley Shacklebolt banked and made a passing dive, something akin to a move Cecilia had witnessed the Gryffindor quidditch team attempt and he came in next to her.

"All right, Mrs Frobisher?" he shouted above the wind. "Getting used to it now?"

Cecilia nodded, because that was all she could do. There wasn't enough air in her lungs to tell Shacklebolt that actually, she was feeling a little nervous and perhaps they could set down in the nearest town and return by train.

"We're just over Leicester, look!" he continued, pointing down past the handle of his broomstick and below them in the dusklight. Cecilia swallowed, looking tentatively down at the houses below her which formed themselves into streets and towns. She looked where Kingsley was pointing and she could just make out arterial roads in the growing darkness.

Confined spaces was her irrational fear but, having never before attempted to fly six hundred miles on the back of an open-topped broomstick before this may well yet vie for joint first place.

"Hold on, Cecilia!" called Mr. Weasley as they began to bank higher. "We're in for a bit of turbulence in a few moments. Nothing at all to worry about," he added cheerily.

Turbulence. Well, she hoped her bags would be okay, hung by the straps like they were from the brush part of Shacklebolt's broom. She glanced from them to the wizard in front of them, and he gave her a wink.

"I remember my first broom ride. I was six. Loved it, I did. Absolutely loved it!" And with that, he zoomed forward, level with Mr Weasley, throwing her a reassuring smile.

Yes, but I'm not a wizard, thought Cecilia. When I was six the only thing I rode was a bike…

She held tighter onto Mr Weasley as the wind buffeted them head on and they rose higher until the motorway, down which she had travelled with Gary the articulated lorry driver that morning, shrank to a yellowy-white ribbon as they soared high above the ground. Her mind began to drift…

..Raymond Lully. So he had worked with the scientists then, and got almost as near as she had by the sounds of it. If he had just avoided employing Oswald Avery, none of this would have happened. Maybe even Voldermort would not have arisen…

…she continued to look ahead, at the full moon below the clouds, shining on the fliers as they soared through the night. She saw Mr Weasley lean over towards Kingsley and say something as they continued forward…

…but the answer to why Voldermort had arisen was never that simple…Cecilia was a scientist, and knew that even with three variables in a problem to be solved could manifest themselves into a myriad of independent concerns, every one of them part of the result and without just one, the result would be different…

…there were so many different factors…

Cecilia's mind drifted to the phone conversation with Nick. Looking back, it was clear he didn't want to speak to her; didn't want even to acknowledge her, even though he hadn't seen her for months.

Was it the same with Libby? Was that the reason she wasn't home when Cecilia had called her early that afternoon? Were all these people she knew growing apart from her, because of the path she had chosen…because of this…?

…they all had their own lives to lead, and were leading them without her. Without her, Amy was coming in from another temp job, throwing on the kettle and phoning her friend to tell her about the hottest crush in the office while she simultaneously flicked through the Next catalogue.

Without her, Libby was cooking dinner for her family, driving Freya to school and going to Sainsbury's, kissing Derek hello when he came in that evening.

Without her, lessons were being taught; science was being discussed. Without her, mother was collecting more curios and ephemera to add to her already well-stocked display cabinet.

Without her.

Was this the turning point in her life, just like recruiting Avery to the Reciprocators was Lully's? Were the minutes after thinking these thoughts, when Mr Weasley left her at Hogwarts and she went back inside the school gates and tracked down Severus and continued perfecting the potion the minutes that would have made her fit back into the Cecilia-shaped space back in Edgeford if she had made a different choice?

How long would it be before everyone at home had moved on, and she was no longer a part of their lives?

And then what? When they had finished the potion? What was the alternative? Attempting to live in the wizard world, with the open prejudice and hatred, even amongst those loyal to Dumbledore? Remain at Hogwarts to teach a subject to wizard children under the guise of a Squib? Be pursued in the name of the curse that had been put on her by Sirius Black?

The broom began to drop a little in the air, and the edge of a cloud clipped Cecilia's arm, causing her now-dry jacket sleeve to become wet again.

Ahead of her, Mr Weasley said something to Shacklebolt, who dropped his broom back to Cecilia's level.

"Arthur said he's sorry about that," he shouted at Cecilia. She turned her head in his direction and nodded.

"We're about an hour and a half away," continued Kingsley, tapping his wrist where a watch might be. Cecilia nodded again, watching as he pulled further forward, turning his head to speak to Mr. Weasley.

Sirius Black.

Never had she witnessed such open hatred. And he was supposed to be on the side of the Order. Parts of her could understand his actions; those motivated by love of Harry. But what she could not explain was the premeditated, calculated method of his destruction of her, which he had been plotting for months.

And, come to that, what had the other wizards done? With the exception of Mr Weasley and Shacklebolt that afternoon, there was only Snape who had actually made an effort to distance himself from Black's actions, even making some attempt at pacification when Remus left.

Remus.

As Cecilia thought his name, she felt her heart beat faster as Christmas Eve replayed itself in her mind. What a lovely, kind man. A wonderful man that she had trusted and chosen to trust intimately.

A wizard nonetheless who had let her down almost as badly as Sirius Black.

Fighting the urge to cry self-indulgent tears, Cecilia looked down past her leg and tried to calculate where they must be. An hour and a half away. Could that be York down there?

Even Harry Potter, technically still a child at fifteen, had begun to show his true feelings. And he was the person she had given so much of her time and effort…so much of herself to protect. When Voldermort was eventually defeated, if she were to stay at Hogwarts as a teacher, that type of hatred would be in her classroom every day.

The wind whipped her already bedraggled and messy hair as Arthur Weasley skirted round a wall of cloud and she held on tighter as the bitter wind caused tears to form in her eyes anyway.

The information she had come by that afternoon replayed itself in Cecilia's mind as their flight continued; its implications seeping into her brain as she dwelt on different pieces of information; new pieces that actually became important, and dismissing those less important until she had a new picture in her mind of what she was dealing with.

And as they began to dip lower between the mountains that surrounded the grounds of Hogwarts, a good few minutes earlier than Shacklebolt had predicted, a strategy was taking shape around the seed of inspiration that her mind had begotten that afternoon.

88888888

Cecilia closed her eyes as Mr Weasley landed heavily on rough grass between the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's hut.

Kingsley had flown near her just before they descended and instructed her that they must land there to remain as inconspicuous as possible and that when they got nearer the ground, she should bend her knees and place the soles of her feet flat down.

Marvelling at how lovely the castle looked from the air in the still of the night Cecilia almost forgot the instruction, and she was propelled a little way forward, landing clumsily on an ankle.

"There we are…up we come," said Arthur Weasley, catching her by both hands and swinging her to her feet. "I expect you'll be glad to be back, Cecilia, eh? To get your er, well…your research sorted out." He smiled expectantly, and Cecilia nodded. She was in no mood to argue, or try to explain to Mr Weasley that the first thing she would be doing was having a nice hot soak.

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," she said, "and Mr Shacklebolt," she added as Kingsley handed her both her bags. "I never knew broom-flight would be so exhilarating."

"Well it is indeed an honour to be escorting such a distinguished lady as yourself," he replied. He looked at Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Now, Kingsley, you're welcome to be off; I can escort Mrs Frobisher back to the castle gates," he continued, looking at Cecilia proudly.

"Thank you for carrying my bags," she said to Shacklebolt as he picked up his broom and stood it vertically next to him.

"My pleasure," he replied, leaning forward and touching her on the shoulder. "Now, whatever it is you have planned, take it steady. And just remember; the information I have given to you is not to be shared. Your life would be in serious danger otherwise."

"Of course," said Cecilia, nodding, before stepping back quickly as Shacklebolt clicked his fingers. A flash of light and a "crack" followed as the wizard disapparated.

"I thought that was impossible inside Hogwarts," said Cecilia, grabbing her bags. She was about to put them on her shoulder when Mr Weasley relieved her of them, tossing them over his and beginning to walk up the escarpment in the direction of the castle.

"Oh it is," he replied, chuckling a little to himself. "But we weren't in the grounds." He pointed to a ring of stones, that flickered as they approached.

"They mark the boundary of the grounds," he said, stopping as he spoke. "These small rocks. Edgestones. When we cross over these, Dumbledore will be alerted to our presence, as he was when you passed over them last night. Which is why I must leave you here; I do not wish my presence to be well known." He tapped his nose.

"The Ministry?" she asked. Mr Weasley, frowned.

"Mrs Weasley," he replied weakly. "And the Ministry, of course."

Cecilia knelt down by the Edgestones. They looked like any other rocks that littered the igneous landscape around the castle. And she had been out here at night before and never noticed them.

"Steady now, Mrs Frobisher," warned Mr. Weasley. "They have been known to bite people that touch them."

"They're alive?!" she asked in disbelief, jerking her hand away quickly.

"Not really. But they have a strange life-like force. A community. They work together as a collective, and if one is touched then they attack." He smiled.

United rocks, thought Cecilia, mystified. Well, I suppose anything's possible.

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," she said, holding out her hand. "I don't know what I would have done without you today."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs Frobisher," he replied, shaking it vigorously. "To have been trainspotting with a muggle…" his eyes glazed over in apparent bliss. "Anyway," he continued, coming back down to earth. "Goodnight."

Cecilia turned to go, as did Mr Weasley, and she picked up her two bags, placing them on her shoulder.

Back to work then, she thought as a wave of glumness passed over her before her mind reminded her of her half-formed plan and her spirits lifted slightly.

As she was about to step over the Edgestones, Cecilia stopped. A figure, running at full pelt out of the west gate entrance of the castle caught her eye. At the same time as she recognised the figure, she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders pulling her to the ground.

"Get down!" he hissed, lying next to her, a hand pressed on her back. "We need to get back! Shuffle back!" he continued, inching his way back towards the steep slope they had climbed.

Cecilia pressed herself low to the damp earth and moved slowly backwards until she her feet met fresh air.

"Quickly, Cecilia! There's not enough time!"

Once she was behind the slope, Mr Weasley put a finger to his lips before withdrawing his wand.

"Severus…" she began, "Death Eaters!" she insisted, but Mr Weasley hushed her, holding his wand erect…

…and only a hundred yards in front of them the assembled Death Eaters crowded round Snape. He stood in the middle of eight of them before one stepped forward…

…Cecilia could barely stand lying here listening as they tortured him. His screams were blood-curdling and, once or twice, she turned her face to the earth and put her hands over her ears. Mr Weasley placed a comforting hand on her back…

"…and she is…_safe_…? You are keeping her safe for the Dark Lord…?"

"…Crucio...!"

The words began to strike in Cecilia's mind. Were they talking about her? Was Snape being tortured by the Death Eaters, like she had seen them do to another last October?

Tortured because of her? Is this what he endured when he went out of the castle? What she had tried to mend before? How long had they known about her? Cecilia tried to shuffle further up the bank, but Mr Weasley held her back.

"There's nothing you can do," he whispered urgently. "Stay down…"

"…that information was correct, Bellatrix…he is to keep her safe until the weapon is brought to the Dark Lord…"

"…that is a lie, Wormtail…"

"…wh...why would he have…any reason…to…lie…" Cecilia recognised Snape's voice, low and gravelly, but faltering…

"…oh yes…like the good old days…yes…muggle baiting…women are always the best…"

"…you…are …to…extract…the information…you need…Lucius…" Cecilia heard Snape manage.

"…that…is…all…"

"…all?" Cecilia heard Lucius Malfoy laugh. The same laugh when she was sitting in the bank. The same intonation when she had seen the Death Eaters in October, when he had enjoyed the torture of one of their kind.

"…but you know there is more than one way to make her scream, Professor Snape…and we prefer it…to a confession…"

"…not let my sister hear you say that…" the voice of a woman, thin and reedy, filled the night.

"…the weapon…is that not the most important…?" again Snape's voice, deep…but disjointed…

So: that was the plan. Cecilia raised her head further up to catch more of the conversation. Severus's cover was that she was going to bring the potion to the Death Eaters, and admit how it worked. Cecilia felt herself begin to shiver and it was nothing to do with the climate.

"…if you have no attachment to her, Snape, why are you so reluctant to bring her…?"

"…but, oh…" the female voice, in sing-song mocking, pierced the air again, "…I really don't think that any of us believe for a minute that Severus Snape has no attachment…"

"…and for this…you were absent from the muggle's home…during the Christmas festival…"

"…Crucio…!" Blue-white light flashed again in the long-distance and she heard Snape scream.

Cecilia could not bear it any longer. She could not stand to hear him being tortured on her account. She could stop this…

"Stay where you are," she heard Mr. Weasley say, his hand on her arm. "You can do nothing for him now."

Feeling tears of anger and sadness on her face, Cecilia turned to the damp, dirty earth again, covering her ears with her hands.

Half an hour later, they had gone and Mr Weasley was pulling her towards him frantically as she tried to climb the escarpment.

"No! There could still be Death Eaters!"

"I don't care!" Cecilia shouted, her voice cracked and dry. She clambered up and over the edge of the hill, trying in the darkness to find Snape.

"Cecilia!" Mr Weasley was behind her, his wand raised defensively and Cecilia stopped dead.

"It's all right," he said, noticing her reaction to his raised wand. "Let me check how safe it is, then we can look for him. Lumos!"

But there was no need to search far in the deserted grounds for Severus Snape: a dark mound lay a few feet away from them, its features illuminated by the dim light of Mr Weasley's wand. Cecilia felt her stomach lurch and she stumbled towards Snape.

Nothing could have prepared Cecilia for the sight she was about to see: on approaching him, she saw that Snape's limbs were twitching uncontrollably, as if he had been electrocuted. The flesh she could see was red and blistered, as if it had seared off in places, and when she tried to touch his shoulder, he pushed her away violently. As he did so, he turned his head and Cecilia gasped in horror at the damage to his features.

"Cecilia," warned Mr Weasley, but she ignored him, kneeling beside him. They'd tortured him, the bastards. The ones from whom he was protecting her. They'd brought him to within inches of his life. They'd tortured him for taking her out of danger's way and back to Hogwarts…

"Lie still." She risked putting the back of her hand against his forehead. This time he didn't move and her hand became saturated with hot sweat. Oh God. If they didn't do something soon he would soon be dead.

"We're going to get you to Poppy," she whispered, wondering how exactly she was going to do that. "Mr Weasley, stay with him. I'm going to get…"

Cecilia didn't finish her sentence as she raced in the darkness over the ground, over the Edgestones before stumbling over a tuft of earth. Picking herself up she hobbled a few more steps before banging hard on the door of Hagrid's hut.

"Be in!" she shouted at the door. "Be in…"

"You lookin' fer me?" A voice behind Cecilia made her turn quickly. Hagrid was standing behind her, arms folded.

"Oh Hagrid!" she exclaimed, exhaling with relief. "Am I glad to see you!" In the moonlight, Hagrid nodded.

"I dare say," he replied, nodding slowly. "And I expect I would be wantin' to say the same thing meself, but first I got-ta ask yer Mrs Frobisher. 'ave you been gone ter Godric's Hollow?"

The look in his eyes made Cecilia shiver. She couldn't lie to Hagrid.

"Yes, but – "

"I see."

"I went, but – " Cecilia tried again, wanting to explain to the giant.

"You went to Godric's Hollow for hexperimentin'," he declared, folding his arms tighter. "Desecratin' Harry Potter's memory."

"I went to Godric's Hollow, but listen – " Cecilia stopped as Hagrid's look of betrayal penetrated her mind. She expected as much. And if she hadn't made her Decision, it would probably be justified.

"Hagrid, I don't care what you think of me. I didn't come here for me. It's Severus. Professor Snape. He's going to die unless we get him to Poppy! I can't carry him myself…"

Her voice trailed off as Hagrid began to pace in the direction of the Edgestones and she hurried to follow him…

When they returned to Snape, under the dim light of Mr Weasley's wand, Cecilia could see he had grown much worse. His pallor, not bright at the best of times, was dull, almost ashen. Snape's limbs had stopped twitching on their own accord, but now his arms lay awkwardly; limp and weak.

"We need to get him to the hospital wing!" insisted Cecilia as she dropped beside Snape again. "Poppy will make you well," she whispered, kissing him quickly on his forehead.

"I'll take it from here, Mr Weasley," said Hagrid, looking between Cecilia and Mr Weasley for a second.

"Certainly, Hagrid, " Mr Weasley replied. "I'll wait here until I see you safe in the castle," he added, smiling briefly at Cecilia before stepping out of the way of the giant as Hagrid bent to pick up Snape.

Heaving him into his arms, Hagrid turned and began to stride quickly towards the castle. Cecilia made to go after them.

"Don't forget your bags," said Mr Weasley, handing them to her.

"Thanks," said Cecilia quickly, smiling at him before hurrying after the Hagrid as he disappeared into the darkness…

…and as Cecilia Frobisher stumbled and fell in the moonlit darkness of the Hogwarts grounds, following an angry giant and an almost dead wizard, her new plan flicked into her mind fully formed, like a summer breeze flitting on the water of a lake.

Tailing behind Hagrid, watching him carry Snape in through the west tower, watching the door swing firmly behind him causing Cecilia to have to take the front entrance, hurrying wearily up the stairs and avoiding students and staff, it replayed like a perfect song on a loop.

Rushing up to the second floor, and along the dimly-lit corridor, through Nearly Headless Nick, ignoring the screams of outrage behind her, past other students, into the hospital wing…she did not have the first idea about how she would accomplish it.

Insisting forcefully to Poppy that she must remain, refusing to retire to her room, ignoring Hagrid's words of derision, and kneeling beside Snape's bed, dismissing threats of the headmaster being called…

As she looked upon the broken body of Severus Snape, broken on her behalf again, for once, Cecilia Frobisher knew exactly what she must do.

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	22. The Lesser of Two Evils

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"…and I agree with those of you who believe that I was mistaken in proposing Cecilia Frobisher as a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

Albus Dumbledore glanced round the kitchen of twelve, Grimmauld Place, looking at each wizard in turn as the murmurs and whispers filled the room.

The sentence caught most of the wizards off guard; most had been called to the meeting following a gruelling double-Order shift, or were about to go on one, in order to discuss the plans for the battle. It had been a long and difficult night and morning with a good deal of things to have to concentrate on.

Many were half-listening now, registering the updates that followed the battle plan passively as the weak February morning invaded the kitchen. They were not really expecting Dumbledore to close with such a statement and the whispers amongst them were of dazed realisation.

Over the rising din, one wizard was trying to make himself heard, resorting to pulling out his wand to gain Dumbledore's attention so that he could speak. Dumbledore raised his hand to request quiet. Once the room was still, Alastor Moody stepped forward.

"I don't think that's the case, Dumbledore," he said, his mad eye swivelling in all directions as he spoke. "The evidence alone suggests what she has endured to bring us the results she has would defeat most people, and yet she has shown a good deal of resilience and bravery. Are you denying this?"

Moody thumped his walking stick hard on the floor to emphasise his question, making most of the wizards jump.

"No, to be sure," said Dumbledore to Moody, looking in the direction of the nods and shuffles. "Indeed, were she not involved, we would not have made the gains we have, as you quite rightly point out. However her wellbeing – " Moody looked at Dumbledore uncomprehendingly.

"Then I do not understand the problem!" growled Moody. "She is the right man for the job!"

"She is a muggle, Moody!" said Sirius from behind him and Moody's eye swivelled round, fixing Sirius Black a look, as did many of the other members. He looked grudgingly towards the wall.

"I do not disagree with you Alastor," continued Dumbledore, looking at Sirius, "however what is clear is that she is under pressure, a great deal of pressure in her pursuit of perfection with regard to Harry's health and that drove her to her departure two nights ago."

"That and the lad himself," muttered Moody darkly. Dumbledore looked in his direction before continuing.

"It is for this reason and no other that I am inclined to agree that I was…" he looked down at a piece of parchment in his hand, "…barking mad" to admit her." A wizard on the front row looked down and began to turn red.

"I have received correspondence from many of you and for those that laud Mrs Frobisher's actions there are an equal number of those who say they will not remain a member of the Order if she remains. Therefore," he paused, engaging each and every wizard in the room by eye, "I require you to vote. You are to vote on whether she should remain."

The murmurs and whispers began again as the Order members whispered amongst themselves. Dumbledore raised a hand to call for quiet again.

"Your vote should consider two things: that Cecilia Frobisher remains in the Order, thus allowing Harry the best chance he has with the potion. Should you vote for her expulsion, if she is to go then the chances of the potion succeeding are slim." He paused, looking at each of the wizards, now perfectly silent, before continuing this time.

"The Order cannot function with only half our number so by voting, you are consenting to the majority verdict." He sat down, allowing the wizards to talk until the discussion petered out of its own accord. When it had, Dumbledore got to his feet again.

"Therefore I propose that until Harry's potion is ready Cecilia Frobisher remain a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"I will second that." Minerva McGonagall got to her feet.

"Excuse me." The wizards turned to see who had interrupted. Remus Lupin had his hand aloft.

"You may have time to consider it, Remus," said Dumbledore softly. Remus shook his head.

"I wanted to ask a question." He fixed his eyes forward as he spoke. Dumbledore nodded.

"Does Cecilia know we are voting on her future here this morning?" He continued to stare at Dumbledore, awaiting an answer. The room was silent as the rest of the wizards waited too.

"No," he replied. "I did not wish to further burden her further." Without turning to acknowledge the comments around him, Remus nodded briefly. "Are there any other questions? Yes? Arthur?"

From his inscription of the meeting's minutes Arthur Weasley raised his head, and nodded at Dumbledore.

"Can I ask why?" Dumbledore smiled at Arthur as he lowered the minute-taking quill.

"I feel she has enough to deal with; her work with Severus is vital for Harry's potion to be completed. And her witness to the events of last night was more we would expect one of us to face. She has enough to deal with," he repeated, "and I believe there is a limit to the science in solving this…"

Above the silent roar of the assembled Order, who were looking at each other in silent confusion, Sirius Black got to his feet.

"And you say this to us now, Dumbledore, when you allowed her to carry on? When good wizards have died on her behalf?!" Sirius threw his arm in the direction of Benjamin Wergs' empty chair and most of the other wizards followed his gesture. Dumbledore looked at him calmly.

"You misinterpret me, Sirius," said Dumbledore evenly. "What she has discovered is more valuable than ever we could have achieved alone and without her input we would not be in a position to defeat Voldermort." He began to survey the Order members again, waiting for silence. Sirius returned to his chair.

"There is another reason. Not only do the enemy know of her existence and have accounted for her into their plans – " (to which under his breath Sirius whispered "Snivellus") " - the Ministry have discovered her here; Tonks informed me of this during the night." Around him, the Aurors nodded and sniffed in agreement, confirming Dumbledore's statement, or allowing his statement to confirm their own suspicions.

"There is a spell on the property that alerted them when Cecilia Frobisher stepped past the "Do Not Trespass" signs, however she was retrieved before Befuddlers arrived to modify her memory." At his last comment, Mrs Weasley gave her husband a glare.

"Therefore," concluded Dumbledore, "those in favour that Mrs Frobisher remains in the Order raise your hands."

At first, only two hands raised. Over the course of the next minute almost half of wizards in the room had raised their hands. Dumbledore surveyed them, evaluatively.

"Fifteen votes to nine – " he stopped as a couple more hands waved tentatively in the air. "Thirteen votes to – " Dumbledore stopped again as another hand raised.

"Could those amongst us who wish Cecilia Frobisher not to remain a member please raise their hands?"

The wizards in the room looked at one another. Five hands rose quickly.

"Five against. How many for?" This time, thirteen hands rose quickly. Dumbledore nodded.

"Five against, thirteen for and seven abstentions. Arthur, please note that in our minutes." He turned in the direction of Arthur Weasley, who directed the enchanted quill to inscribe Dumbledore's instructions.

"Hmm!" Sirius folded his arms, and huffed his displeasure loudly.

"And she is to continue to teach, Albus?" Minerva turned to Dumbledore, a worried expression on her face. "It is overwork that has caused much of this, I fear. Miss Granger has informed me she is worried for her state of mind." Dumbledore returned Professor McGonagall's worried expression with one of calming serenity.

"While I do not have to answer for whom I choose as a muggle studies teacher I would have many needless quill-to-parchment exercises to complete explain in great a detail a muggle present were she not in the employ of the school. Therefore she must continue in her capacity of a teacher lest the battle is lost through our drowning in paperwork. Yes, Miss Banks?"

"Can I ask you Professor Dumbledore, of the exact nature of last night's events?" Elspet, a young Auror, not long out of Hogwarts herself, smiled nervously, addressing him in her high-pitched tone, cut with concern. It had been a long night that had dragged on into the early hours and she had just registered what Dumbledore had said. "With Professor Snape, you mean?"

"Severus Snape was injured in line of duty. He will be returned to full health I do not doubt; Poppy Pomfrey has his interests at heart." Elspet nodded in confirmation, then turned her head vaguely as Sirius muttered loudly under his breath something that sounded like "not just her."

"So in conclusion, the weapon is close at hand and now the alert has been set we will need every member of the order there if victory is to be ours. Cecilia Frobisher remains an honorary member of the Order and more details will be provided upon completion of the weapon." He smiled brightly at the very tired members.

"That concludes our meeting, ladies and gentlemen and I must thank you all for taking the trouble to come at such short notice and at such hour." He looked at Bertie Griffin, who was still in his pyjamas, and gave a small smile.

It took a few moments before the wizards got to their feet, yawning and stretching as they went. Some went into the living room and disapparated immediately; others passed a few words to one another before disapparating too, or using the living room fireplace to floo.

A couple of wizards looked over a sheaf of notes they had made, which no longer made much sense, before shrugging and manoeuvring the kitchen table back to the centre of the room using a variety of spells and hexes.

It was a few moments before Mr Weasley got to his feet too, looking over the minutes of the meeting before kissing Mrs Weasley on the cheek and walking out into the living room.

"No-one stopping for breakfast?" inquired Molly Weasley, as she began to look at who was left in the kitchen.

"Not for me," said Sirius, apparating a cup of tea that began to coil hot steam from the rim. "I bet most of us just want to get back to bed."

"Shame," said Mrs Weasley, the opportunity for maternal domesticity denied her. She put down a large frying pan that she had intended to begin the breakfast in, looking crestfallen at it. "What about you, Remus?"

"Hm? What Molly?" Remus Lupin looked up from what he was reading, a copy of the Daily Prophet from the day before, an expression of confusion fleeting over his features.

"Breakfast, Moony," said Sirius, swinging his feet onto the kitchen worktop and ignoring Molly Weasley's silent look of disapproval. "Molly is wondering whether you're having any."

"Er, no. Thank you, Molly," he added, looking at her and smiling. "Not really in the mood for it." Mrs Weasley looked at the scar that cut deeply into the back of his left hand, and nodded.

"I'll just see if Arthur's managed to go. Maybe you'll fancy some lunch, later?" She looked at Remus for confirmation, and he nodded silently.

"You really should be looking after yourself," said Sirius, idly stirring the tea and watching the steam emanate from it erratically. "Especially at your time of the month." He glanced in Remus's direction as he spoke. Remus raised an eyebrow in response, but said nothing.

"Snape is going to let her be sacrificed, you do know that? He's made a pact with the Death Eaters to save himself." Again, Sirius looked lazily in Remus's direction. This time, his comment provoked a response.

"No," he replied, turning to look at Sirius. "That can't be right…how do you know?" The expression on Sirius's face betrayed him, and Remus rolled his eyes skyward. "Harry."

He shook the Daily Prophet, and turned over the page. "Well, I suppose that's all you have to do if you're shut up in here."

"I'm still speaking to Harry, if that's what you mean," continued Sirius, staring out of the kitchen window at the slowly-paling early morning sun. Remus said nothing and continued to read the third paragraph of the second column in quiet contemplation. Sirius watched him for a few moments before taking a sip of his well-sugared tea.

"Where were you a few days ago, anyway?"

"Around," replied Remus, turning over the page of the Prophet again and examining an advertisement for Boutes the Potionmaker. "Yourself?" He raised an eyebrow in Sirius's direction.

"Around. Which is more than can be said for Tonks, I see."

"No indeed," confirmed Remus carefully.

Silence reigned for a few minutes as Sirius sipped his tea again and watched a small cloud pass over the face of the morning sun and Remus looked at the Prophet's "Witch Weekly" column.

"She's still on duty, then," added Sirius.

"I assume so."

"And you've gone to the Forbidden Forest alone, this month then?"

"Yes, Sirius."

"And you are out of wolfsbane…?"

"Yes indeed. The only person with the ability to make it for me is incapacitated at the moment."

More silence ensued, save for the rustle of the newspaper and the "clink" of the cup on the saucer.

"If she has to be sacrificed for the greater good, surely that's the best thing for everyone?" Sirius uncrossed his legs at the ankle, pushing himself into a sitting position and draining his cup. Remus Lupin looked up from the Prophet's "Letters" page and gave him a look that matched the deep wounds on the back of his hand and neck.

Without saying anything, Sirius got to his feet, clicking his fingers so that the empty china cup disappeared. As he made his way towards the door, it swung open and Minerva McGonagall walked through.

Sensing an atmosphere, she glanced between the two wizards nodding in thanks as Sirius held the door for her before placing her bag on the table and sitting on the chair next to Remus. Once she had passed, Sirius walked through and into the living room without looking back.

"Dumbledore is compelled to do what he thinks best in all circumstances," said Minerva, feeling inside her tartan robe and extracting a pair of spectacles.

"Don't let Sirius trouble you Remus. Mrs Frobisher will be quite safe, I am sure." At her words, Remus put down the out of date paper and looked at Mcgonagall for a few moments. She smiled kindly at him.

"It would never have worked, Minerva," he said sadly, stroking the back of his hand as it began to tighten in response to his body's healing process. "She could not have abided what I am…"

"But you did not tell her. Perhaps she would have understood – " The witch glanced down at the minor headline on the facing page that read, "the Ministry and the Mystery they tried to hide…read the shocking truth…"

"No offence, Minerva, but I've been through all this with Sirius." He looked down at the headline, looking at the words as his mind recounted unbidden memories that were bubbling uncontrollably to the surface of his conscious.

"Aye well, not to state the obvious Remus, but Sirius Black is not exactly objective when it comes to Mrs Frobisher, is he?"

Remus Lupin exhaled and stared at the image of a wizard from the ministry on the opposite page who was pointing in the direction of the sky after leaving the phone box that was the Ministry's muggle entrance under the title "The Day the Sky Fell on my Head". Then he looked at McGonagall.

"Minerva…I – " he began, his expression one of cheerless enquiry. Just then the door flew open and Sirius looked at them both, his hand still on the door handle whence he had just opened it.

"Chaps…Remus…you're needed, old friend. Red alert I'm afraid…"

88888888

As she crossed the first floor corridor, the first thing Cecilia noticed was the students. She noticed the students because of their puzzled looks, surprised at her presence. Not in a vindictive way certainly, but in a puzzled, curious way, as if trying to recall something important connected with her presence, but then dismissing it quickly.

She had just come from Dumbledore's office where Minerva McGonagall, who had found her talking quietly to the unconscious body of Snape in the hospital wing, had sent her, ignoring Cecilia's protests about her appearance.

Cecilia had explained what she'd heard the Death Eaters say the previous evening to a silent yet engaged headmaster and he nodded and prompted her to continue from her return from Godric's Hollow to the conversation where Cecilia had realised she knew of a plan against them.

When she had finished, Dumbledore had nodded in acknowledgement of her imparting of the information, confirmed that the students, with the exception of Harry, Hermione and the Weasley family were ignorant of her departure and the circumstances surrounding it then had merely asked whether she had what she needed to continue with the potion and that she was happy to continue as arranged.

Cecilia had felt taken aback and slightly uneasy at the fact that Dumbledore had failed to ask her to justify for her absence and had nodded, sighing gratefully at the brevity of their agreement in the end as she left.

It was just as well, thought Cecilia as she made her way down from the top tower and onto the moving staircases, judging the pattern of their movement so she could reach the second floor as quickly as possible, for she had hardly been able to consider anything else other than the burden of information sagging on her mind. And on top of that she could not get the image of Snape from her mind.

Snape was badly hurt. That had been the first thing Cecilia had realised when she had awoken next to him. The second was that he was unconscious. She had quietly whispered his name, looking at he horrific injuries he had suffered.

Then Poppy Pomfrey had spoken to her, and asked if she could add to the information that Hagrid had given to her, which had been that he had found him outside the castle grounds. She had told Cecilia that, in her opinion he had been hit by Cruciatus curse by more than one wizard.

"I'm so worried about him, Poppy!" she'd exclaimed when Madam Pomfrey had realised she was awake. He had taken so much on her account; it only seemed right she should stay.

I can see that, dear," she'd replied, looking diagnostically at Snape, before casting Cecilia the same look; the muggle looked terrible, she had thought, and wondered what had compelled her to stay next to the most disliked teacher in the school. Who was she to put up a fuss.

"Looks like a multiple hit of Cruciatus curse to me," she'd continued, explaining why she was sure of her diagnosis. "The yellowing of the skin just there," Cecilia had looked at Snape's arm, which had a slight jaundiced tinge to it.

"The capillaries have been ruptured, causing slow leaching of blood. Like a bruise, but slower and more difficult to heal. Also, he is suffering from internal injuries, for there will be extensive blood loss to the major organs which would have been deprived of a blood supply for many minutes because of the rupturing. So incredibly painful," she added, taking in Cecilia's horrified expression, "but he will heal."

Cecilia had smiled and nodded at Poppy Pomfrey, grateful that the healer had not made a fuss. Then she informed her of the information she had received about her grandfather, Pompops, and his relationship to Raymond Lully. Poppy seemed very pleased to know of the news, and thanked Cecilia for remembering her with so many other things she had to think about, and her own exhaustion no doubt, Poppy had reprimanded gently.

Yes, Cecilia had agreed silently, she was tired. But of her decision from the night before her resolve was firm and she found she was revelling in relatively more energy than she would have expected.

However she'd had no more time to consider the other things in the quiet environment of the hospital wing for, just as Poppy had left her, Minerva found her and had insisted that Cecilia take her bemudded and protesting form to Dumbledore post haste.

It was only during her journey from Dumbledore's office, free of apprehension of her status and position following her departure, as she walked the passages of the castle on the way back to her room that she found herself having the mental energy to push all unnecessary and irrelevant thoughts out of her mind.

So as Cecilia rounded the corner towards the teachers' quarters, her mind working on where to recommence their research she was amazed to see…herself, showing Ron Weasley into her room.

Ducking quickly as the door closed in front of her, Cecilia glanced through the glass of her own bedroom door window, trying to see what – she – was doing in her own room with a student.

"…oh yes…" her other self was saying, "Miss Granger told me all about it; I would advise you to speak to her, Mr Weasley…" Her other self looked up from her chair, her legs folded at the ankle in the way that Cecilia did when she was lost in thought but was being instructive, and was giving Ron Weasley, who was standing before her and listening hard, a look – her look – of knowing wisdom.

Cecilia strained to hear what was going on, and saw her other self playing with a necklace, a diamond-petalled flower on a thin chain. What was happening, Cecilia wondered as the other her refolded her ankles.

Then it occurred to her: this was _her _room, inside were _her _belongings…she shouldn't have to be creeping around outside it.

…and walked in…

….she looked at herself…

Her other self was sitting at her desk, leafing through what seemed to be _her _notebook…Cecilia stood in the doorway for a moment, her hand still holding onto the handle as she goggled at the other her…

…her other self looked up…

Ron looked at her, and looked at her other self, almost as much puzzlement on his face.

"Look," said Cecilia, her voice rising in pitch and volume to match her rising irritability. "I don't know who you are, but I've had one _hell _of a last two days, so if you're a ghost or something, you'll be kind enough to continue your conversation – WITHOUT the use of my lab notes, and out of my room!"

She looked at her other self and folded her arms with a gesture of finality. Ron turned to look back at her, and then her other self….

…whose eyes began to fill with tears…

"Ron." said Cecilia, in a less brusque manner. "Perhaps you'd be so good as to explain what is going on, and why you're sitting on my bed and talking to, er…me?"

Ron just looked at her for a few moments before an expression of comprehension dawned. He pointed at the other Cecilia with a shaking finger.

"Polyjuice potion!" he cried angrily at her other self, glancing at Cecilia momentarily. "Whoever it is in there…" He walked over to her other self and stood, hands on hips. "Who is it?"

The other her began to weep steadily, screwing up Cecilia's top in the process.

"We'll only have to wait another five minutes to find out anyway!" continued Ron, is face turning red and jabbing his finger at the other Cecilia. "Harry…? Ginny...? Hermione…?"

As Ron's furious remonstrations continued, her other self began to cry harder. Cecilia turned to Ron and smiled kindly at him and gestured towards the door.

"Perhaps you'd like to leave…myself and I alone, Mr Weasley?" she said, walking towards the other her and standing next to her. "Perhaps you could wait outside?"

"No!" cried Ron angrily, taking a step towards the other Cecilia. "I want to see who it is who's been trying to con me for the last half an hour…" He took another step towards the other Cecilia and Cecilia herself took a step forward, standing between them.

"Wait outside, Mr Weasley," said Cecilia firmly, looking in the direction of the door. "You may speak to the other me at your leisure when he or she leaves my room…in their original form."

Ron looked as if he was about to argue with Cecilia, and glanced between both her and the other her in resentful annoyance. Instead he considered Cecilia's less than kempt appearance and he nodded slowly before turning and walking begrudgingly from her room.

"Now," said Cecilia calmly, looking at her own red-blotched face and teary eyes, "would you like to explain what's going on here?"

The figure before her erupted into heavy tears again and…before her eyes, her own form materialised into…Hermione Granger…the girl's body was wracked with sobs as she clenched her fingers between her hair in distress.

Cecilia stepped back and allowed the girl to stop crying, sitting on her own bed in her grimy clothes (which she was dying to change out of) and waited for Hermione to say something. Eventually, Hermione's fierce raging tears diminished to muffled sobs and took her hands away from her face.

"Mrs Frobisher, can you promise me something?" She turned, her red eyes in Cecilia's direction.

"If I can," said Cecilia gently. She got to her feet, and moved towards Hermione, smiling at the girl. Hermione got up too and moved away from Cecilia.

"Don't," said Hermione, raising a hand in Cecilia's direction. "Please don't. You need to be angry with me, that's what I deserve, not you to understand." Cecilia frowned, and folded her arms.

"Tell me why you're sitting in my room pretending to be me," said Cecilia coldly, sitting back down on her own bed. Her tone took Hermione by surprise, and she sat back down on the chair by the dressing table, fiddling with the flower pendant nervously…

…and then she told Cecilia in great detail how she had got the idea of making polyjuice potion to be her in October, so she could speak to Ron…how she had rediscovered the handkerchief which she had offered to Cecilia when Cecilia was originally investigating ingredients…that she originally decided to use it to get Ron to ask her out by adding it to the potion and becoming Cecilia…and how she had taken a few strands of Cecilia's hair when she could when Ron had not done as she – Hermione – had expected, she continued to take it…

Throughout the confession, Hermione delivered the information matter-of-factly. She was regretful, Cecilia noticed, however did not make excuses for her actions. At the end, Hermione apologised, looking down and placed a vial of potion onto Cecilia's desk.

When Hermione finished, Cecilia said nothing. The first thing that came to mind was, why had she not investigated this potion before and as a result reproached herself for overlooking it. And strangely, though she should be, Cecilia did not feel angry at her at all.

"Are you angry with me?" asked Hermione tentatively, when Cecilia had said anything in response to her apology. Cecilia shook her head.

"No," she replied truthfully, sighing deeply as she looked randomly around her room, before back at Hermione. "That explains why Ron has been thanking me for my advice over the last few months."

"Is there anything I can do to make it up?" asked Hermione, the tone of her voice seemingly requesting of Cecilia some form of admonishment.

"I think you have a lot of explaining to do, to Ron," Cecilia replied, getting to her feet. At her reply, Hermione lowered her head before nodding erratically. Cecilia got to her feet. Right, well, now that was sorted out, perhaps she could believe that was the start of a roll, and that all the problems she set her mind to that day would also be solved as easily.

She made her way towards the door, intending to open it and usher the girl out, but as she went, Cecilia saw Hermione's head drop and she exhaled silently.

The rest of it would wait; her student needed her unrushed attention now.

"You don't enjoy being at school, do you?" asked Cecilia, smiling at Hermione as she made her way over to her. Hermione looked at her quickly, her teary eyes wide in astonishment. "You feel you have something to prove?"

"Yes," said Hermione, nodding.

Yes…Cecilia agreed. She looked down slowly, and moved her gaze slowly across the flagstone floor, her feet following as she looked up towards the window. Glancing back at the hunched figure of Hermione, she returned to the window, examining the grain of the wood that framed the grey-toned glass as her stomach dropped achingly towards her feet.

"I could easily be a child here…" her mind drifted through her memories as she worked her way up the frame and her voice took on a faraway tone "…after Christmas, the castle was empty…it was truly wonderful to research…the process of researching…all these mysterious things…" she glanced at Hermione briefly, "…think of the of the things you find most fascinating and fantastic about science, Hermione…and for me, with magic…see the books I have read, with personalities of their own…the pictures that talk and move…the invisibility cloak that belongs to one or other of you, I even came across a strange mirror hidden in an underground room…"

"What did you see, Mrs Frobisher?" asked Hermione, quickly.

"Nothing," said Cecilia, looking back at her. "There was nothing there, not even my reflection or the walls behind me, which was…very peculiar. If I had more time to investigate such things in the castle, I would be a very satisfied scientist…" She walked back over the floor and looked at Hermione.

"But I am far too arrogant, Hermione. I thought when I began this, I thought, if my world can be described by science, then this one can too. I can apply universal laws of physics to magic, and the chemical nature to potions, and the biological nature of genetics to wizards. I can do that, I thought. I have the determination…understanding…skill…"

She opened up her notebook from where Hermione had put it on her dressing table, and turned to a page near the front, pointing at a relevant passage.

"…elemental nature of "Impedimenta"…" she continued to pace towards her reverse-faced wardrobe, "…energy of "Accio", "Felix Felicis", "Reparo"…the wave function of the curse "Alohomora", "Expelliarmus" "Avada Kedavra"…" She glanced at Hermione, who was staring at her, before glancing back at her notebook.

"I know I'm not the one to sort this out," she said, pacing back to the book, flicking it shut and concentrating on it a look filled with all of her personal inadequacies and limitations. "I cannot look at things with as critical an eye as a wizard, who has grown up with it; neither can a wizard, who knows nothing of muggle science understand to such a great degree the importance of the physical nature of the world…"

Picking up the book, she threw it onto the bed, watching with growing hopelessness as it bounced a couple of times against the pillow before spilling onto the floor with a thump.

"You and Professor Snape – " began Hermione, with care in her voice.

"Why did he do this?!" exclaimed Cecilia, clenching her fists in frustration. "He just left! Why would anyone be so callous just to walk out…without a word…after what we had…" Cecilia could feel herself blushing, "…with no real explanation?!" Tears began to fall down her cheeks now as she turned away from Hermione and walked towards the window again. "I must be so naïve…"

This time, it was Hermione who waited for her to speak. She remained seated, watching in sympathy as Mrs Frobisher's clearly involuntary release of her bottled-up feelings in her presence, clumsily and bluntly, unrefined and raw.

"There's nothing left for me here…Severus...the one person who I can talk to…he's injured so badly he it will be a miracle if he speaks again…and I caused that, Hermione…me...!" Cecilia clenched her fists again, making her knuckles whiten under the pressure "…because of my pride…this is what I'm causing Hermione, by being here…and I can't even recompense by being able to guarantee that the potion we are making will be perfect…"

Her gaze caught Hermione's eye and she sighed, shaking her head at her own weakness and crossed back to her bed, looking angrily at her inadequate notebook.

"I apologise Hermione," Cecilia said eventually, her teacherly tone returning, "that you had to listen to the rantings of a mad woman. I would appreciate it if you would not repeat anything to your friends." Hermione looked down, as her own reality weighed on her shoulders once more.

"I don't know how long they will be friends," said Hermione glumly. "When Ron tells Harry, they won't have much to say to me…and when he tells Ginny…and the twins – they think you're so cool, Mrs Frobisher, they'll be as mad as anything…" She shook her head sadly.

"What is the promise you wish to make?"

"Not to tell the Mc-….Professor McGonagall," said Hermione, glancing down in shame. "She would have no choice but to expel me, not least for using the potion to impersonate someone, which is against school rules, and for deceiving and also stealing the ingredients…" Cecilia nodded.

"I see. Yes. Of course not, Hermione. However you will have to deal with Ron." Hermione nodded, and got to her feet.

"Thank you, Mrs Frobisher," she said, looking down, before holding out a hand. "For understanding." Cecilia shook her head, and stood up too.

"Not in the least," replied Cecilia, standing up. "I should be flattered that a young lady such as yourself considered impersonating me to be something of value. It is I who should be thanking you for understanding." She reached towards her necklace that she had lent Hermione for the ball, before dropping her hand sharply. "It really suits you."

"Mrs Frobisher – "

"Did it bring you luck?" Hermione paused, before nodding. Cecilia smiled inwardly and the young witch made to take it off.

"Keep it. I'll never wear it again. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Hermione nodded again and walked towards the door. Cecilia turned and looked towards the bathroom, wondering whether Dobby would have run her a bath or if it would be a strip wash over the sink.

"Mrs Frobisher," said Hermione, leaning through the door as Cecilia placed a hand on the oak of the bathroom door. "I left the potion there. It's the one half of it. You can't make the second half until you need it, and the first half takes a month. My contribution to your research," she added, shyly. "And if you need me to make any more, or change it, or anything, you only have to ask."

"Thank you, Hermione," said Cecilia, nodding at the girl. She waited until the young witch had finally closed the door of her room before hurrying gracelessly into the bathroom and throwing it shut behind her.

88888888

In a stately manor, far away from Hogwarts, the events of early that morning were being subjectively analysed by the followers of Lord Voldermort. The main protagonist, charged with their orchestration evaluated the results.

"It is done!"

"It is done!" she repeated. "By the auld magic! But the muggle was not Cecilia Frobisher – " she wheeled round and pointed an long, slim finger in Lucius Malfoy's direction malevolently.

"You did not perform the auld magic correctly, Bellatrix," he replied, his body stiff and motionless. "Is that what you are telling us?" He remained fixed as Bellatrix Lestrange took a furious step in his direction, screaming in fury.

"The name your son gave was false and the location was also inaccurate! The magic will only work with the proper information, Lucius. _As well you know_!"

Rodolphus Lestrange put a hand on his wife's shoulder to prevent her flying at their host. They were all disappointed at the results of the early morning, and though muggles were destroyed, it hadn't been their Lord's intended target. Everyone was on edge at the contemplation of his impending retribution.

"We received the message from the muggle's own hand, Bella." Narcissa Malfoy stepped towards her sister, attempting a layer of reason as lubricant between her husband's stubbornness and Bellatrix's rage. "We acted on the information we had."

Bellatrix ignored her sister's diplomatic intervention and the tightening grip of her husband's hand on her shoulder, taking the book, almost identical to the one in which Cecilia had written the letter to Snape and she scrutinised the message suspiciously.

"She was clever enough not to say where she was going, Lucius. How were you enable to interpret that she was to return to her home?! It is the same as the information that you were unable to retrieve from the ministry a month ago…Hustian and Doyle falling far short of – "

"But the muggle that was there!" Malfoy snapped. "…Elizabeth Mitchell…was a muggle…in the house…as were the others there…"

His voice trailed off and his gaze became fixed on the figure that had materialised behind his sister-in-law, under the Gothic arch that separated the parlour from the study. How did he manage that, when the room was imperturbable?

"Your conversation makes interesting listening." Voldermort moved slowly, as if skimming over the floor, rather than walking. "And to answer your question, Lucius, because I am the most powerful wizard who ever lived."

Voldermort proceeded towards the group, who took steps back in order for him to enter the circle of them. Many of them felt apprehension at his sudden uninvited arrival; others such as Pettigrew and Bellatrix, felt heartened. They had not knowingly or incompetently betrayed their master.

"You have done well, Bellatrix. I can see, as ever, you acted in good faith, on inaccurate information." He swung his head towards Lucius, as did many of the Death Eaters. Even though they had retreated to Malfoy's mansion, many felt that Lucius Malfoy had played on and used his blood ties to extricate himself from less fragrant tasks for far too long.

"She fought, my Lord, the muggle that we found" replied Bellatrix proudly, showing off her scarred forearms. "I overcame her of course. For, in the end, a weak muggle she confirmed herself to be."

"And Dolohov…I understand we are to thank for your contribution." He looked at the confused Death Eater and growled low in annoyance at his followers' ignorance. "You despatched the muggle's husband."

"Yes, my Lord." The Death Eater bowed at the waist. "As ever your servant." Voldermort could not hide his delight at the conformation he curled his upper lip in amusement.

"Painfully, I trust?"

"Of course," Dolohov nodded. "Cruciatus, followed by Avada Kedavra."

"Good…good…" he nodded in congratulation. Then he turned to Lucius Malfoy who, in the beautiful trappings of familiar surroundings was caught off guard. "You on the other hand, you information was, as Bellatrix describes, inaccurate. It is curious to wonder why two pieces of information were coincidentally erroneous, however the result remains. The muggle lives and as such, the enemy's plan rolls ever forward."

Malfoy held Voldermort's gaze for only a second longer before dropping to his knees. That he did that so in his own house, before the portraits of his forebears was unheard of. As one, the Death Eaters drew breath sharply.

"My Lord, I was given it on the authority of – "

"Your son?" hissed Voldermort icily. "Whose deeds on my behalf seem to have always been somewhat short of the mark! Do not rely on the evidence of your son again, Lucius, for I will not" At the humiliating denunciation, Malfoy hung his head lower, so he was staring at the rich, Tyranean carpet which luxuriously hugged the floorboards.

"…but my Lord," he continued, "he was acting as best as he could, under the circumstances. He gained his information – "

"Silence!" Voldermort withdrew his wand and pointed it at Malfoy. Half of the Death Eaters inhaled sharply again; one or two, beneath their masks, grinned mercilessly.

"Bella." He turned swiftly and held the wand at arm's length in her direction. "I did, did I not, entrust the task to your overseeing?" The terror in his favourite's eyes flashed bright and clear. Bellatrix clearly did not expect to be the one receiving Voldermort's wrath.

"You did, my Lord," she said, her voice failing to waver, even before him. "And I failed you. The muggle that was not the one who left Hogwarts, who I was assigned to kill." She bowed her head obediently.

"Bellatrix, you are my most loyal follower." Voldermort's voice was light and almost sing-song as he addressed her and he lowered his wand at the same time. "However, I ask you, how will I command the loyalty of others if I do not punish those who have _failed me_…"

As his voice tailed off, he raised his wand, and blue-white sparks flew out of it, forcing Bellatrix Lestrange onto her knees. A scream reverberated around the study, bouncing off the ornaments and books.

"Naaaaaaow!" Narcissa Malfoy turned to her husband and screamed at him. "How could you not check with Draco? Why did you not make sure?" She pointed towards her sister whose teeth were gritted in agony as she bore Voldermort's torture in silence.

"I did what I could!" screamed back Lucius, staggering back to his feet and glaring at his wife. "I trusted our son!" Before Narcissa could reply, Bellatrix's screams reverberated around the study, shaking the huge portraits of the Malfoy family that hung on the walls and drawing their attention (and those of their ancestors) back to her plight.

Then Voldermort lowered his wand.

"I did not wish to do that." His voice echoed in the silent aftermath of his torture of Bellatrix Lestrange. "None will doubt that equally as I reward success, I punish failure. Let no-one doubt it."

For a few moments, no-one spoke. Some Death Eaters, including Narcissa Malfoy, looked in Bellatrix's direction, empathising with her plight; others looked away or at the floor. None dared look at their Lord directly and all waited for him to take the lead.

"Long have you suffered, my loyal followers," Voldermort said, at length. "Long have you endured ignobility and reprehensible conditions as you endeavoured to avail yourselves of your duties to me. I salute you, my supporters," he looked round at each of them in turn, including Bellatrix, who was still on her knees, "I salute each and every one of you for the afflictions you have borne as you have endeavoured to eradicate this land – nay – this world, of muggles. Do you know why muggles today are more repugnant than ever?"

Around Voldermort, the Death Eaters stared at their master, shaking their heads in mute ignorance.

"Long have they contaminated the earth. Long have they destroyed it. Exploitation of natural resources. Pollution. Annihilation of the natural world. For the last two hundred years muggles have done these things in the pursuit of power, to gain energy to warm themselves, feed themselves. Support an ever-spawning population. They have ransacked this planet as if it was theirs alone to plunder."

Voldermort paused. Every pair of eyes were on him now; none were expecting him to speak in this manner, and he held them in wrapt awe.

"Muggles would have died out of their own accord had they not chosen the path of power. This would have resulted in the world being inhabited by magical beings, using energy responsibly and efficiently. The world would have been a true wonder of purity to occupy."

"But such a dream is now gone. We have a planet that is in danger of boiling from the pollution created by these filth-loving muggles. Not only do we have a natural, righteous urge to destroy muggles, but a moral one too."

Voldermort looked around his supporters again, who were now looking at one another, muttering to each other. He smiled slowly as the low noise buzz amongst them suggested that they were in agreement. As the noise grew steadily, Lucius Malfoy stepped towards the centre of the group.

"My Lord." The noise diminished, and the topic of conversation appeared to shift to focus on the host of the meeting.

"My Lord," he repeated, clearly waiting for Voldermort's permission to speak and he nodded slightly in Malfoy's direction.

"We have it on good authority, my Lord," continued Lucius, his volume increasing to match his confidence. "The weapon is ever closer to being developed. Even though it is designed to be used by Harry Potter himself it will not be substantial enough. At present, so we are informed, they do not have the correct construct and even if they do find a way, Snape" he glanced sideways at Bellatrix, "…informed us that the muggle will not allow it to be used by him."

"How interesting that you come by that source of information, Lucius," said Voldermort, staring icily at Malfoy. "Was it particularly difficult for you to extract that information from Severus Snape?" He followed Lucius Malfoy's line of sight, and stared at his former favourite.

"And did you not consider, Bellatrix, that Snape would have imparted this information to me of his own accord, without the need for…convincing?" Bellatrix gave Lucius a sour look, folding her arms in resentment.

"However, the information is in itself intriguing. Dumbledore trusts the muggle enough to use the boy, and yet her weak mind will not allow her to fulfil what the great man requires for fear it will injure him." An expression of mocking played on Voldermort's features. "Interesting." He looked back at Malfoy.

"Did Snape inform you of any other information, Lucius?" Malfoy shook his head slowly.

"Only that he wished to confirm that once we had finished interrogating the muggle that…what remained was his." At this, a ripple of comments flitted between the Death Eaters.

"And what of Avery?" He turned quickly to the subject least-favoured Death Eater and, at his name, many of them visibly shuddered and looked away. One who did not, however was Bellatrix. She stepped forward, clearly eager to win back her image as his most faithful by sharing the least palatable information with the Dark Lord.

"…f…from his father's information, it would seem that for many years he worked for wrong man. Lully appears to have the details well hidden. Avery himself fled last night. I organised the search party…McNair, Crabbe, Rabastan, Nott…all will recommence until he is found."

Bellatrix inclined her head, anticipating her master's commendation. Voldermort stepped forward, raising his wand again. She gasped in horror, wondering what she had got so wrong that she must endure his displeasure a second time that evening. However, Voldermort did not direct his wand towards the Death Eater, but held it aloft, in the centre of the circle.

"Good…good…" he declared, glowering at the accomplishments of some of his followers. "But the fact remains, I still need the book, wherever it is. However, it is a minor inconvenience."

"But my Lord," said Lucius Malfoy, addressing Voldermort directly this time, "the mission to the muggle's house was intended to avail you of it."

"Indeed, Lucius. And there is one loyal supporter who will track it down for me. This time, Fenrir Greyback will not fail me again!"

88888888

Each day for four days since Hagrid had brought Snape up to the hospital wing, Cecilia spent every free minute at his bedside.

Following her chance meeting with Hermione as herself she proceeded to use a set of notes that Snape had inserted into her notebook, completed two batches, before teaching lessons. As it was a Friday, she had lower school, and only in the afternoon which reassured Cecilia. Despite Dumbledore's reassurances that none of the students in her fifth year classes would remember what had gone on, she nonetheless would have felt awkward having to teach them immediately.

Then she analysed the batches, having readjusted the instruments carefully before recording the results and making her way up to the hospital wing where she spent the evening evaluating the results at Snape's bedside.

On that first evening, Cecilia was not very productive. Poppy Pomfrey brought her a chair and she sat next to Snape, looking over her results but her mind drifted to the conversation she had heard the previous evening that had led to his horrific injuries, running over and over the main events of that night and morning in her mind.

Poppy had explained that it may take a few days before he regained consciousness and she had ushered her out of the hospital when the clock had struck midnight, telling her that there was little of substance that Cecilia could actually do.

Over the weekend, Snape began to stir, and she took it upon herself to discuss the potions she had made and analysed during the day, including him in the evaluation process, as if he was conscious, even putting across her side of the argument, as if anticipating where he would choose to interject, correcting him one-sidedly as she got through the analysis.

It was on the fourth evening that Cecilia noticed him stir and open his eyes. She had dropped her book heavily onto the floor when she noticed him move, and at Poppy Pomfrey's behest had left for a long, tortuous hour, until the healer had come to find her, assuring her that Snape was conscious if very weak.

Cecilia had bolted along the second floor and through the double-hinged doors of the room in which the wizard lay, her heart stopping momentarily when she saw that his eyes were closed once more.

Carefully, Cecilia sat by his bed, and took his hand, gently. At her touch, he opened his dark eyes slowly and Cecilia smiled. Then she noticed her research book open on the table next to the bed on her last day's work.

"C'c'la," he managed, through dry, cracked lips. "Cecilia…" He shuffled up in the bed, looking across at her in a glower, dropping her hand as he did so.

"Good to see you, Severus," she said quietly, folding her arms across her chest.

"Same could be said for you," he retorted quickly, before wincing. "I thought it would be foolish for any muggle to return to the castle when a student issued death threats." His eyes narrowed, and Cecilia felt her heart stop. Not only had she been the cause of his suffering, he hated her for leaving, for collecting the samples, too.

"However," he continued, his voice still cracked and reedy, "I have witnessed that weak trait of bravery in you before, Cecilia. I trust you managed to retrieve everything we desired?"

For a moment, Cecilia said nothing. She felt like sobbing in frustration and anger at the cause of his injuries.

"You were not the cause of this, if that is what you believe." Snape gave her a grave look, and Cecilia felt tears prick in her eyes.

"Why did they treat you like this? I saw what they did to you!"

The words were out of Cecilia's mouth before she had engaged her mind, and she felt her face flush with embarrassment. The look that passed over his pained features said enough.

"We are still in the process of perfecting the potion for Harry. Unfortunately the Dark Lord is beginning to lose patience with my…lack of results – " he coughed for a moment and reached for the glass of water next to her open notebook.

" – can't believe you heard what you did…" he added, as he conceded to Cecilia taking the glass from him, her guilt washing over her as she looked at his scarred face and body. She had seen these effects before, when he had rushed by, almost two weeks ago. By the look of him now, he had been lucky then.

"Why was I so stupid to leave?" she whispered, looking at the cuff of his robe, looking at the high-count weave, looking at the crisp, white sheets…anywhere but at Snape. Tears dropped slowly onto the hospital sheets, darkening the material where they fell.

"And done what?" he asked, taking her hand. "Surely you know this is not your fault; this would have occurred whether you were here or not? Anyway…there are other things, Cecilia…" Snape broke off , reaching up to her face and with the back of his hand, wiped the tears from her cheek.

"You needn't have gone," he continued. "I would have managed to do it myself, eventually."

Cecilia said nothing. In her mind, she could feel herself shouting at Snape, telling him that at the rate they were going it was more than likely that Voldermort would have expressed his displeasure rather more violently than this, and then he wouldn't have had the opportunity to perfect it, despite his skill, because he wouldn't have been there!

She got to her feet, and from her pocket Cecilia removed the piece of pottery she had collected from Godric's Hollow. Gazing at it, she turned it over and over in her hand.

"I didn't take it after all," she said, holding the brown chunk on the palm of her hand. "Nothing with Lily Potter's DNA. Only this. Nothing of consequence. Only I travelled all that way…thought I'd better take something." Snape looked between her palm and her face.

"Then you are clearly a foolish muggle, with far too much emotion," he commented, reaching out towards the fragment and folding her hand closed over it.

Cecilia looked at Snape, as he lowered her hand down towards the bed. He was not angry with her, that she had been too cowardly follow through with what she had declared she would do.

She held Snape's gaze. The cold distance that his eyes usually beheld was replaced with an inner glow, somewhat more iridescent, inferring depth. What was he thinking about that meant he had not chastised her, either for being weak, or for his injuries? How could he just take such punishment on her account? But then he knew not of her own plan, unrefined as yet, but conceived.

A cough from Snape broke their eye contact, and Cecilia thrust the fragment of brown pottery deep into her pocket, looking uneasily.

"Your concern has touched me greatly Cecilia, and I appreciate your consideration of my state of health. However I must ask you to leave." Cecilia felt her mouth open. He wanted her to leave? She was about to argue, but then thought better of it.

"There are many useful things you can be doing with the base," Snape continued. "We need only to seek the match now." He watched as her face broke into an expression of wondrous surprise.

"Do you mean to say…you've done it? You've made the base?" Snape nodded stiffly. And I wasn't there to see it, thought Cecilia mournfully.

"Go to the potions classroom, check on the flobberworms. The assay I have outlined on parchment which resides at present in a volume of "Spells and Ministry Legislation" so it will be perfectly safe. We need…" Snape coughed violently, "…now all we need is the right match." Cecilia nodded. It was as they'd discussed; the key to Harry's potion lay in not just the correct combination of ingredients but also the timing of their administration.

"I will go then, if you insist," Cecilia said, a desire to investigate this new development stirring in her stomach, "however I will be returning, for I still need your contribution Severus. However brilliant I am in the field of science, I still as yet cannot perform the miracle of magic!"

"Perhaps I can help you there." The voice behind Cecilia was warm and soft, like treacle being poured on warm bread. She turned and was met with the serene expression of Dumbledore. "It is good to see my staff rallying to each others' aid, once in a while." He looked at Snape, who looked down. Cecilia smiled wanly.

"As Professor Snape is incapacitated of late, and until his recovery, perhaps a substitute to meet your needs that are out of your capabilities?" Cecilia frowned slightly, wondering who Dumbledore had in mind. Minerva McGonagall perhaps, or another teacher?

"Mr Potter is extremely regretful of his behaviour towards you, Mrs Frobisher and eager to atone for his actions. Were he to assist you in Severus's stead, you can assess the potion to your high standards of satisfaction and prepare Harry for what lies ahead." He took a few steps towards Cecilia, his hands folded neatly in front of his long, silvery beard. "Will tomorrow evening be satisfactory?"

"Too much care can kill, I think. Perhaps you should rest, Mrs Frobisher? It appears as if your work is at such a stage that it would be prudent to make sure you are fresh and ready for the work that is ahead of you." He turned to Snape, adding, "the both of you." Cecilia nodded, obediently, glancing at Snape who was nodding stiffly at Dumbledore's words too. Yes, she did feel tired; maybe a rest would do her good.

"Thank you Professor," said Cecilia summoning up as much professionalism as she could to reply to Dumbledore. "I'll take a break, as you suggested." She took a few steps past Dumbledore and round in front of Snape's bed, smiling at him sympathetically.

"Mrs Frobisher…"

Cecilia had got to the double-swing doors and turned at Dumbledore's words.

"I think now would be an opportune moment to thank you for your commitment to your work."

Cecilia nodded again, before turned swiftly, feeling very self-conscious as she headed to she left, and somewhat embarrassed as she made her way towards her room.

88888888

"Have you spoken to Hermione yet?"

Harry shuffled under the invisibility cloak as he turned to address Ron. They were sitting on Mrs Frobisher's desk in the muggle studies classroom, Harry's wand aglow as they perused the copies of her laboratory notes. Not that either of them had found anything useful or interesting; most of the information contained in them had been reams of analyses performed using different spells and under different conditions.

Harry had come across the work he had done in the notes, as well as a record of the information that he and Ron had obtained about the muggle scientists and while he probably should have realised that he wasn't going to find anything other than what Mrs Frobisher had told him, he had found it strangely therapeutic to read through the books.

"No," said Ron, flicking over a page. "She runs a mile every time I try."

"Embarrassed, I suppose," said Harry, picking up the next volume from the pile. "Wouldn't you be if you'd been deceiving a friend?" Ron looked across at him darkly, before picking up another book too.

"She betrayed my trust, yes," he replied, opening the front cover of his notebook, a date of 9th to 28th October was written on the first page. "I'm out of sequence," he continued, changing the subject and putting down the notebook. "What are we doing this for anyway?"

"Do you want to forgive her?" asked Harry, handing Ron the next volume down

"What sort of question is that?" replied Ron mournfully.

"Well…you seemed to like the thought of Mrs Frobisher talking to you – " Ron put the thick, red book he was scrutinising pages down, flattening the spine absently.

"Do you know what you're looking for?" He gestured towards the one that Harry was holding. "This seems wrong, to be going through her stuff like this…like something Malfoy'd do."

Harry moved around on the table so he sat cross-legged in front of his best friend. "It's not," he began. "It's more like…I have to make sure that everything's OK. I have to have it clear in my mind, as much as I can. In any case, it's _about_ me, isn't it? It's not like it's nothing I've not been told before." Ron looked uncertainly at Harry for a moment before looking back to the pages he was scanning.

"And anyway," continued Harry, glancing down the page of the notebook he was reading, "you didn't answer me. Do you _want _to forgive Hermione, Ron?"

Ron said nothing for a moment, flicking over a page in search of the names of spells and potions which they recognised before, under Harry's insistent stare he looked back up.

"It was a dreadful thing she did, Harry. And for Mrs Frobisher as well. All those times we thought we'd spoken to her and we'd hears she was in a different place all along…it was actually Hermione…" He cut off, picking the now-broken spined notebook and looking at it furiously at it. "Any spell we've heard of, or science as well?"

"Spells," said Harry, handing Ron his wand and he swung his bejeaned legs out from underneath his invisibility cloak and put his plimsolls flat onto the hard flagstone floor before retrieving his wand. Making his way over to the table at the back of the muggle studies classroom, Harry inspecting the latest batch of potion that they had watched Mrs Frobisher make early that very morning.

"I thought you said we were just going to come here and watch what she was doing," hissed Ron, turning under the cloak to address Harry, exasperated. "She's not here now," said Ron, exasperated. "And by the look of the pile of parchments and stuff she was taking with her she won't be down here tonight."

"To find out what she's doing Ron," clarified Harry, picking up a spatula and poking at the thixotropic substance in the next cauldron, which became paler and thinner as he stirred it. Ron, who was still underneath the cloak, watched him lift up some of the obsidian-black sludge that resided therein and allow it to drip off the spatula, before picking up the next book.

As Harry continued to investigate the next concoction, Ron opened the book and started to scan down the pages. Curious, he thought as the names of spells, potions and magical ingredients were listed in the right hand side of the book and on the other, words which were almost unreadable, long words, in English, some six or seven syllables long. From the next page fell a bookmark, which glimmered under Ron's illuminated wand.

"Harry," called Ron as he looked at the bookmark. "What do you make of this?"

"What?" called back Harry, looking engrossed at the consistency of the third potion. He put down another spatula and looked towards where he knew Ron was sitting.

"Come here," said Ron as the bookmark changed colour to grass green and he threw off Harry's invisibility cloak and thrust the book in his friend's direction.

"Looks like some sort of dictionary," said Harry as he looked across the pages. "Like a reference book or something." He glanced across at Ron who was still holding the bookmark. "What's that?"

"A theme-changing bookmark," said Ron, looking at his friend. "They're very rare, and expensive. Flourish and Blotts only ever have one in at a time."

Harry made a small "o" of mild interest at the bookmark, which continued to darken in Ron's hand to moss green and he placed the dictionary open onto Cecilia's desk.

"How does it work?" asked Harry, watching Ron watching the bookmark shimmer in the wandlight. "And why is it so expensive?"

"It changes colour to the theme of the book," said Ron, holding it at its edges towards Harry. "The back tells you what colours mean what – " Harry took it from Ron's outstretched hand. "…pink for romance, green for adventure, blue for mystery, black for horror…" Harry looked at fabric of the bookmark, made of gold fibres interlaced with delicate threads. The gold twinkled hypnotically and Harry watched it shimmer.

"Let's see what the bookmark thinks this book is," said Harry, picking up the dictionary quickly. "Do you just put it inside?" Ron nodded. "It takes a few seconds…" They bent their heads towards the book that now contained the theme-changing bookmark."

"Pale turquoise," said Ron with certainty. "That means it's…" he took it from the book, "…factual mystery…" Harry looked at him and then back at the book which he picked up.

"…r…s…t…" said Harry, looking at the blank pages, "it doesn't seem very complete if it is a factual…" Placing the book back on the desk, he watched as Ron picked it up.

"…"tri…p…poly…a…mide derivative" for "wolfsbane" "monkshood" and "aconite"…" said Ron, looking at Harry. "Look – it _is _a dictionary, and I reckon it's got something to do with her work…"

"…wolfsbane…" mused Harry thoughtfully. "I think she _was_ using this in the potion. She mentioned something about it before Christmas…"

"...maybe it is complete," said Ron, looking at the pages. "Maybe Mrs Frobisher was making a list of wizard and muggle things, when she was working on the science, perhaps. Or now, even…" he added. Harry looked at him in amazement, feeling himself nodding as he glanced at the pages over Ron's hand.

"She's been cataloguing the science and magic," he said pointing towards the words "transuranic elements contained in…" which were written neatly on the left-hand side of the book and across at the names of three transfiguration potions, their main ingredients bracketed neatly after their names.

"Let's check the other books," said Harry, picking up the bookmark. "Did you find all of the books?" Ron shook his head.

"Looks like there's one missing," he said, watching as Harry placed the bookmark inside one of the first of Cecilia's notebooks and watching it change to turquoise too. "Well, Fred and George did say Sirius destroyed one on Christmas Eve…." realisation washed over Ron as he watched Harry put the bookmark inside the next notebook.

"…what if she never got round to replacing the notes…what if that's the reason she's so worried about your safety, Harry?"

Harry looked up into the concerned face of his friend, watching as the bookmark between the pages of "No. 9, February 1997 – " darkened to a dull grey-black.

"Who knows," said Harry, taking the bookmark out of the book and putting it back inside the dictionary one. "I can't work this out. Maybe you'd have got more sense out of Hermione as Mrs Frobisher. I think I would have preferred her version of our Muggle Studies teacher, Ron," he added, stacking the books up into a pile, hoping they were in the same order as they had found them an hour ago.

"She has gone a bit strange," replied Ron, helping Harry. "Ginny said she looks as if she's not even teaching half the time; that she's miles away." He handed him another book as Harry concentrated on making the pile slightly higgledy-piggledy near the bottom of the pile. "She set them homework today and told them it was due on February 31st."

"Well she does spend so much her time here," agreed Harry, leaning another volume on its side. "And sometimes she even sleeps here." Once he had finished putting all the books in a suitably untidy pile he pulled up his invisibility cloak from the floor, fishing around in one of the many pockets within as Ron held his illuminated wand aloft so Harry could see.

"Who are you looking for?" asked Ron as Harry pulled out a battered old piece of parchment and folded it out onto the desk.

"It's nearly two thirty. Mrs Frobisher will be here soon," he replied, touching the Marauder's Map with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Ron leaned forward as the off-white parchment dissolved onto a map of the castle, the people still up and about depicted by small mobile banners proclaiming their names. This included "Ron Weasley" and "Harry Potter" in the muggle studies classroom.

"Where is she…" Harry pondered, scanning the parchment as he smoothed it flat onto the desk. "Two thirty and she comes through that door…" Ron took a couple of guilty steps back, folding his arms defensively.

"It doesn't work for Mrs Frobisher, Harry," he began, waiting for his friend's confused expression to fall on him. "It must be something to do with the fact she is a muggle or something." Harry continued to stare in his direction, the knut dropping after a mere five seconds.

"If you'd been in the muggle world that'd be called stalking," said Harry darkly as he looked in the direction of the now redundant map.

"No, Harry, don't get me wrong," said Ron quickly, as Harry began to fold up the map again. "You've seen it too, don't you remember? When we were following Mrs Frobisher from Hagrid's and you opened it as she went towards the teacher's quarters and we saw Snape in his room, but no Mrs Frobisher?" He looked imploringly at his friend, who returned the expression with one of doubt.

"Mischief managed," Harry confirmed as he placed his wand over the parchment. "I really wish you'd told me that before, Ron." Ron shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Well I thought you knew," said Ron, lowering his wand slightly. "And anyway, it wasn't stalking. It was protection. I – " But Harry was no longer listening to him; he'd taken a few steps towards the classroom door, and began to open it tentatively. Ron, his wand still emanating light, followed him quickly as the school bell tolled a solitary dong.

"Well she's not here yet," said Harry, looking down the cold and draughty corridor that led towards the courtyard.

"She must still be in her room," said Ron, thinking about the pile of work he had seen her with that evening. "It was a big pile of marking." Harry retreated a few steps and closed the door in front of them. "Either that or with Snape," continued Ron as they made their way back towards Cecilia Frobisher's desk, "he's in a bad way…"

"I don't care, he deserves it," muttered Harry, lifting his invisibility cloak aloft as Ron jumped onto the nearest table and sat cross-legged.

"You think he deserves those injuries?" Ron took the job of supporting the cloak from Harry, holding it aloft like a tent.

"He's a nasty git, Ron," said Harry, jumping up beside him and waving his wand into life. "Lumos."

"But does he deserve it? I don't like her much either, especially after everything that's happened…" Ron reasoned, looking at his friend in the darkness. "But Dumbledore reckons she went back to your mum and dad's place to help you, to make the potion right…"

"But you just said that you thought she was behaving funny because she hadn't," whispered Harry sharply. "That's what I mean. I want to be sure."

"I thought you weren't worried, Harry?" said Ron, shuffling to find a more comfortable position.

"I'm not," replied Harry quickly. "I trust her more than Snape. But what if you're right, Ron. What if she's missing some of the material she needs because of what Sirius did at Christmas?"

Without warning, Harry jumped off the bench and ducked underneath the invisibility cloak, heading towards their muggle studies teacher's desk again.

"Harry, what are you – "

"Sh!" hissed Harry, grabbing one from the pile and bringing it back over to Ron. "I've just had a thought." Ron held up the edge of the cloak and Harry came back underneath it, placing one of the latest volumes of Cecilia's notes on the bench next to him.

When Harry had comfortable, he turned to the first pages, which had notes dated from a few weeks ago, looking down the first few pages. The writing was small and rounded, Mrs Frobisher's handwriting, the words written in fineline biro, which did not suit the parchment from which the notebook was made, but did suit Cecilia. Every so often, the paragraphs detailing the work she had done would be interrupted with a few notes, a sentence or two, or even a couple of words dotted in and out of margins written in quill and ink.

"Snape," hissed Ron, pointing towards a sentence that Mrs Frobisher had written that had been crossed out unceremoniously and the word "NO!" in large capital letters written next to it.

"And here," said Harry where the names of some herbs, curses and potions had been altered too. Harry continued to flick through the notebook before turning back to the first page.

"She's got the information down about the Universal Link," said Harry as he read. "Like she told us about in class. From what I can make out from here. And something about the potion, too – " He pointed towards the bottom third of the second page where an insertion had been made by Snape.

"It looks like…" began Ron as he looked at the words on the page. Harry nodded slowly, and read the title above the list of potion ingredients again.

"…Elixir No. 5: Base..."

"There," said Ron, nodding slowly. "Looks like they've made some progress with your potion, Harry. Snape's handwriting too, so it's a potion, not a science-thing." He leaned back allowing Harry to flick over a couple more pages, nodding in agreement.

"And, from that list, they're the ones inside that dictionary. I bet anything she didn't stop using science on the ingredients, that she's been checking to make sure the energy levels are – "

"What?"

"…that the energy levels are what she expected!" Harry finished, a note of triumph in his voice as he smoothed open one of the later pages. "She did, look!" He pointed to a table wherein the ingredients, a dozen or so, had been tested with different spells and the wavelengths recorded.

"Just a sec, I need to get the dictionary-thing," he continued. "Accio…er, dictionary-thing," he said, holding his hand out from under the cloak. From the pile of books the one containing the cross-referencing of wizard magic and muggle science flew across to Harry and he snatched it underneath the cloak.

"Let me just find – "

"Wow!" interrupted Ron, pulling Harry's arm. He was looking at the notebook that Harry had discarded and pointing at something at the bottom-right-hand corner of a page.

"It's full of them!" he clarified, turning over a few more pages. Harry leaned over to look where Ron was pointing.

He flipped back to the page that Ron had first shown him. Every so often, amongst the text there were doodles, caricatures. Cartoons or drawings that Cecilia must have done for they were picked out in biro.

The picture was something typing on a typewriter. Harry recognised the machine as such because Uncle Vernon had one in his study which, he'd told Harry proudly one day, had belonged to the War Office. In front of the typewriter looked like an ape, typing words onto a page that was sandwiched between the roll and the holder. Next door to the ape was a pile of presumably already typed pages. Underneath the doodle were the words, "late 20th Century muggle technology".

Overleaf was another, this time of an ape stirring a cauldron. Another a few pages hence depicted an ape in front of a rack of test tubes which extruded smoke and bubbles.

The theme continued throughout the book: ape with book, ape with wand, ape with pointy hat, ape with cauldron, ape with microscope…

"She's not too bad an artist," concluded Harry, "though Merlin knows what they're supposed to be."

"Let's have a look at that list of Elixir No. 5," said Harry, gesturing for Ron to turn to the second page. Then he looked down the list, flicking simultaneously to the pages in the dictionary.

"…mandrake…asphodel…lacewings…crushed bezoar…"

"What do you make of it?" asked Ron, at a loss. Harry shook his head, closing the dictionary.

"Well, I've got to go and work with her tomorrow night and apologise," he said, as Ron closed the notebook. "I can ask her then. Thanks." He took the book from Ron and placed it on top of the dictionary, to his right,

"Dumbledore's orders?" Harry nodded slowly.

"Could be worse though. The last time I had detention from Snape he had me copying out old detention slips from years ago. It was so boring, and he had me doing it for hours. At least she's a softer touch." He smiled towards his friend, feeling grateful he had someone to share this with.

"She might not be this time, after what you pulled."

"Yes, well," said Harry dismissively. "I do feel sorry for laying into her – "

" – and saying she was sleeping with Snape," Ron reminded him pointedly.

"Well technically, if she wakes up next to him in the hospital wing – " Harry began.

"I don't think that one will wash – " began Ron. Just then the handle of the muggle studies classroom door rattled and he fell silent. Both boys watched like stunned rabbits from underneath Harry's invisibility cloak as Cecilia Frobisher entered the classroom.

It was clearly raining outside, and her clothing and hair were wet. She smoothed down her long skirt as she scanned the room clearly looking for something with which to light the lanterns of the classroom. Before she could take a step towards the tinderbox on top of the mantelpiece, Cecilia turned at the sound outside the door.

"Lady…"

She opened the door, and Harry and Ron could see Dobby, the little elf dressed in dungarees and atop hat, jigging about from one foor to the next as he pulled on Cecilia's damp skirt.

"Lady must listen to Dobby," they heard Dobby insist. "Lady is in grave danger! Lady must consider what Dobby has to tell Lady…"

"Maybe he means from Malfoy," whispered Ron close to Harry's ear as he saw Cecilia crouch down to Dobby's height as she waited patiently for him to talk to her, "you know he went through her stuff in her room again when she was missing?"

Harry nodded, recalling that Dobby had told him the very same news he was now telling Cecilia at three o'clock in the morning the day after he had attacked her.

"What if Malfoy knows and is trying to kill her?" Ron continued urgently. Then where will I be? Harry added to himself.

"Well if you go round listening to Dobby, everyone's trying to kill Mrs Frobisher," concluded Harry, as he turned from his friend and towards the conversation between Cecilia and Dobby. It appeared to be over now as Cecilia had stepped back into the classroom and closed the door behind her having dismissed the house elf sympathetically.

"She's got more patience than me," Harry whispered as they watched Cecilia look in the direction of the fireplace again.

Cecilia ruffled her hair and yawned. The rest had done her good but it hadn't made any difference to thirty fourth year essays that she needed to mark…

She took a few steps towards the tinderbox and pulled out a large box of Cook's matches before walking round the classroom and lighting the twenty one lanterns that hung about the walls.

…but it had made a few things clear in her mind…

Once the classroom was glowing with lamplight, Cecilia made her way towards her desk.

"Where is it?" she said to herself, looking through the pile of books on her desk.

"She wants those," hissed Ron, leaning past Harry and pointing in the direction of the books they had just been looking for. Harry put his hand on them and pushed them out from underneath the outskirts of the cloak, pulling his hand back just in time as Cecilia looked in their direction.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, walking towards the two young wizards. "Why are you two over here?"

Harry was about to speak and explain their presence before he realised that in fact Mrs Frobisher was addressing her books. Ron tapped his temple at Harry before pointing at Cecilia.

Taking the books back to the rest of them, Cecilia pulled out the wooden chair that was tucked neatly under her desk and opened up the dictionary one. She scanned down the page before opening the other, leafing to the next empty page.

Next she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a well-chewed Bic and used it to write down a few words into her book. She continued to do this for the duration of that page and continued onto the next. Just as Harry was about to intimate to Ron that they should think about leaving, Cecilia stopped, throwing down her pen onto the desk and picking up another notebook, seemingly at random.

Hunching over the notebook, Cecilia flicked over the first few pages of the book, recalling when she wrote her first few thoughts and hypotheses about science and magic. Looking at the letters on the page she recalled when she wrote this, a time in the summer, before she knew what the Dark Mark was, before the end of August, when she had taken books from the potions classroom and studied them under the glorious summer sunshine. When she had far fewer cares and she was able to think freely and laterally.

When…she pointed to some words on the page, tracing their outline as she thought about when a certain wizard had given her a certain book by that name, when she trusted each and every one of them…when she would never have conceived that her life would have become this, living in cynical hopelessness and feeling so alone, willing the time to come where it would be confirmed that the potion would not kill the consumer she was trying to protect and she could know she had done her work adequately...

A time, in short, when she was so naïve…

But it wasn't going to be like that. That wasn't the way it would go. The lesser of two evils…it solved so many problems.

Putting down that old notebook Cecilia wiped a teardrop from her cheek and picked up her pen. Then she found the latest volume and began to write…

88888888

"All I'm saying is, after checking every seven hours for the last three days, the potion is of the correct energy for Harry…"

Cecilia had been building towards this conversation in her mind since she had visited Snape the day after he had awoken. She had continued to write lengthy notes into her latest lab book before realising that she had only got an hour before the fifth years arrived for their two-hour muggle studies lesson.

The week had returned to almost normal in terms of teaching, although if she was honest she felt it becoming a tedious diversion from her real work. As a result she had prepared for none of her lessons and had allowed each year group to choose a new project from a hastily compiled list.

This was the approach she had taken for the fifth year lessons that week and Cecilia had given little thought as to what the students would be doing that morning, other than they would use her books and work on their projects again. This time she had selected "Muggle Medicine and Wizard Healing" to research, a good, open-ended topic that Cecilia had supposed would encompass most of the work they had covered and allow them to use their evaluatory skills.

Few of her students had fully mastered evaluations and conclusions yet; at the start of term Cecilia had marvelled at the way many of the subjects at Hogwarts were delivered didactically and the information spoon-fed to the students. She had introduced many of the classroom teaching strategies that were commonplace in muggle schools including discussion work, analysis of evidence based on results gathered and evaluation of the work they had carried out, things that non-magic children would be quite at home with.

The young wizards had got on very well with the task, taking different approaches from researching two contrasting cases to an overview of one and the other, comparing similarities and differences. Hermione, who had finished the work before coming to the lesson she had sent to the library to carry out extension work with a reward on the cards if she was able to add to her essay and bring it back completed by midday, when the lesson finished. However Hermione was the exception and by the look of relief on her features as well as those of deep resentment on Ron's it had been a good move on Cecilia's part.

To be honest, the projects were taking shape: Gordon Riley had the contents of his project well and truly nailed down; Parvati and Padma Patil had used case studies of their family to draw on experiences for the "Muggle Medicine" part of their projects and Seamus Finnigan had made an excellent attempt in his project, having investigated Florence Nightingale.

On the whole the lesson had been pretty uneventful though the discussion during the last twenty minutes of the lesson was quite rewarding. Michael Corner had begun to discuss his project with Seamus and Ron, which was to do with the length of time wizards were exposed to curses and the effects.

Five minutes before the end of the lesson Cecilia had asked if anyone could tell her who Paracelsus was. Many hands were aloft and she chose Dean Thomas, who had told her that he was a powerful wizard responsible for many of the potions they were taught at school.

"He also contributed to the muggle world," Cecilia had explained. "To paraphrase, he said that it was not the poison but the dose that determined how toxic something was." She'd looked round at the hushed students, who had been nudging each other and whispering amongst themselves.

"Could you explain, Mrs Frobisher?" Dean Thomas has asked, voiced it had seemed the question that all the class had wanted answered.

"Certainly." She'd paced through the class, summing up Paracelsus's sentiment. "Water will kill you, but you need enough of it. You can drown," she'd clarified when she had still been met with blank faces, "whereas…." she'd stopped wondering what would kill wizards in small doses, something that would interfere with the chromosome Cecilia had designated as W no doubt and had looked at the class for clarification, "…yes, Marcus?"

"Flixweed," he replied, "a herb that, when liquefied takes only one drop to kill." Cecilia looked at the rest of the class for confirmation and was satisfied to see they were nodding in agreement.

"So, you have until next lesson to complete your projects before you present them," she confirmed, walking back to her desk and shuffling some of the papers thereon. "Once you have packed away your things, you can go," Cecilia added, nodding towards the raised hands of the students who were desperate to get out of her lesson and out to enjoy the weekend.

"We're going to stand up and talk about them, Mrs Frobisher?" came a voice from near the back.

"Yes, it's a game of two halves, Dean," she added, smiling at her own cryptic joke as the young wizard made his way forward.

"…do you mean like football? What team do you support, Mrs Frobisher?" he asked, his voice hushed. Cecilia shook her head.

"Not me, Mr. Thomas," she said as she sorted out the lined A4 paper into a pile. "The late Mr Frobisher supported the Villa." Cecilia smiled to herself when she saw the look of disgust on Dean's face. "You don't approve?" He shook his head.

"The Villa played rubbish last Saturday," he said, unfolding a piece of newspaper from his pocket. "We thrashed them three-nil!" He pointed to the score and Cecilia read the name "West Ham".

"But I have to admit, we're not doing brilliantly," conceded Dean, folding up the newspaper and stowing it inside his robe. "Well, goodbye Mrs Frobisher," he added, making his way to collect his books before hurrying from the classroom and out onto the corridor.

Cecilia watched him go, realising that she had wanted to catch Harry before he left. With the exception of the magical creatures that were residing in cages at the back of the classroom, hidden as they were by the drop of the large tablecloth, it was deserted.

Looking across at the books on the table, Cecilia made her way across to close classroom door before returning to her test subjects. It probably wouldn't be entirely a good idea to continue working that afternoon on the potion, especially as she had a pile of fourth year essays to mark.

And particularly, she thought as she picked up the cages containing the rats, bowtruckles and the containers of flobberworms, when the potion, so perfect in its energy level, was still yielding toxic side effects.

Granted, she thought as she placed the animals on the table, it was far better with the newly perfected base and seemed to be working better, but the fact still remained that the LD50 rate had been close to 85, far too high to give to a flobberworm and send it to face Voldermort than a human, even if he was a wizard.

If only Snape was well, she thought as she collected her notebook and carefully recorded the results of the vivisection. All they had to do was to find the complementary match to Harry's base which would allow his full recovery back to health once his powers had been repressed bar one and after he had performed the "Avada Kedavra" curse on Voldermort.

"Only", she thought to herself chidingly as she pulled on a pair of gloves and picked out the dead flobberworms and placed them in a pile. "Only" could be months away, and at this rate, with no assistance, neither from Snape for obvious reasons nor from Harry, it probably would be.

"Only" was not an adequate summation of what Harry would have to do according to the Order's plan and the physical and mental challenges he would have to face.

Only he wouldn't have to, a little voice in her head reminded Cecilia as she donned another pair of gloves and removed the small wriggly survivors of the potion and placed them in a new container. Granted, she would need the potion to be perfect still…

…after Cecilia had finished dealing with the flobberworms she moved the animals back underneath the table and began to prepare the match potion again, taking care to choose an intermediate percentage of juniper bark as the only deviation to Snape's suggested recipe and began preparing, brewing and blending these potions with the original base.

Once the samples were boiling Cecilia returned to her notebook and began to note the exact compositions of those potions she had made, remarking to herself at how very similar to the composition of the polyjuice potion that Hermione had told her about.

If she had done the research, or had had time to do it more thoroughly, she may have been able to shortcut to this moment months ago, blending two complementary potions instead of just one. If she had just kept her head and not her mind dwell on the business of Raymond Lully and the business about Reciprocators.

Although it had been interesting and had explained a lot, the effort it had taken to get to the bottom of it did not outweigh the relatively little difference it had made to Harry's potion. I wasn't the right person for this job, Cecilia thought as she put down her pen from the copious amount of writing she had done and returned to the potions, they needed someone more objective and perhaps Voldermort would be defeated by now.

"The muggle-wizard history is not going to interfere with this work again," Cecilia told herself firmly as she stirred the last of the match potions carefully.

As she surveyed the three vials of possibly perfect match potions that stood on the table next to the Harry's base, Cecilia wondered whether she should approach Dumbledore and at least let him know that Harry had not come to assist her. It wasn't as if she particularly wanted to see the boy again, considering how he had treated her but if he was supposed to be attending as a penance then she would gladly see to it that he was cleaning out some of the cauldrons that she needed.

In fact, thought Cecilia as she began to blend the three matches she had made with the base potion in various quantities making nine potions in all, she wouldn't have him deprive Dobby of the job that the little house elf so clearly enjoyed (as the clock chimed four, it registered with Cecilia that he would be along to do that very job for her soon). She would involve young Mr Potter and his voice-vanishing spells in a productive task of brewing and testing the potion himself. The lad was sixteen after all and –

A loud knocking interrupted Cecilia's thoughts and she turned in the direction of the classroom door.

"Come in Dobby!" she called as she pulled out a pair of measuring cylinders ready to measure out the potions, "I've just about finished with the cauldrons," she added. But it was not the interestingly-dressed house elf that Cecilia had expected to open the door but Harry Potter.

"Mr. Potter!" she said in astonishment, putting down the equipment.

"Mrs Frobisher," he replied. "Can I come in? There is something I need to talk to you about." Cecilia nodded, and gestured towards one of the front desks, indicating for him to sit down.

"Now," she said standing next to her desk. "What can I do for you?" Cecilia smiled weakly, wondering whether his evident discomfort was due entirely to his behaviour towards her a week ago. Harry looked at Cecilia and got back to his feet.

"I am sorry for my behaviour, Mrs Frobisher," he began, holding her gaze. "I should not have acted towards you like I did, it was wrong to do so, even if I did think I was right, which I don't any more." He stopped and looked to his feet. Cecilia nodded slowly.

"I must have taken a lot of courage to come to speak to me, Harry," she said, leaning against her desk and looking at the unruly mass of black hair that was in front of her. "I accept your apology."

At her last words, Harry looked at her and held out a hand. Surprised, Cecilia took it, shaking it firmly.

"Now, if I am to understand Professor Dumbledore correctly, you are to assist me with your potion?" Harry nodded, grudgingly.

"I've been practicing the "scourgify" spell," he said bitterly. "Dumbledore said I was to come every day and that you had many cauldrons that needed cleaning." Cecilia nodded, watching the young boy's shoulders sag depressingly.

"However I would not wish to deprive Dobby of his favourite job, which reminds me, he will be with us shortly. I think a more appropriate task, Harry, fitting of a young wizard with your talent." Cecilia turned and made her way back towards the table where the potions she had made that afternoon stood in their dark green bottles. She lifted the cloth to reveal others, almost two dozen, which she had yet to test magically for an exact energetic comparison.

"We are on the verge of perfecting your potion, Harry and as you can see by the absence of Professor Snape, I have a certain backlog. I'd need you to perform spells upon these potions so I can record the effects." Cecilia took a few steps back as Harry goggled at the potions.

"Mrs Frobisher," he began, a trace of concern in his tenor. "You wish me to perform magic on these potions…in front of you? A…are you sure? I mean…" He looked at Cecilia in alarm.

"Naturally if you do not feel you are up to the task," Cecilia continued, stepping forward and dropping the tablecloth, "I understand entirely although I will leave it you to inform Dobby of his absence of task this afternoon, and indeed any afternoon when you return. Neither will I expect you to be cleaning the cauldrons by magic and I cannot deny it will be a blow to the progress of your potion." Harry said nothing, but was shaking his head as she spoke.

"Please, Mrs Frobisher, I would prefer to help you..." Cecilia nodded as Harry spoke, determined that her mirth did not show on her face and she handed him the vials of the match potions she had made that afternoon.

"Before we continue, I need to ask your opinion, Harry, about Voldermort." At the mention of the name, Harry tensed. Cecilia smiled a little before continuing. "I need to know something of your point of view. If you were to explain to someone who he was, what he was about, what would you say?" Harry had looked at her blankly and it had took Cecilia to further prompt that his perspective would be valuable to the work for him to open up.

"Voldermort, thinks power is the ultimate thing a wizard can possess," Harry began, sitting on one of the desks and talking candidly to Cecilia.

"He thinks death is the worst thing that can happen to someone, which is why he favours the Avada Kedavra curse. His whole aim in life is to find power to keep himself powerful, I think, and get rid of people who do not agree. My parents included." Harry broke off, and looked down at his scuffed plimsolls.

"My mother gave me protection through her love and this protected me. But the protection has gone since he returned last year and took my blood." He slowly moved his left hand and rolled up his sleeve, showing Cecilia again the deep scar that had been made in his flesh by Pettigrew when he extracted blood from Harry to use in Voldermort's regeneration spell.

"Dumbledore says his downfall is his believing that death is the worst that can happen – " he continued, as he rolled his sleeve down and rebuttoned the cuff. Cecilia shook her head.

…remaining behind after the person you love has gone is worse…

Cecilia realised Harry was staring at her, and that she had spoken her words aloud. She smiled before making her way up the steps to the back of the classroom again towards the remains of the potions. Harry watched her go. When she realised that he wasn't following her Cecilia turned and looked at him.

"Come on. I'm not just going to get you washing out cauldrons. This work involves you, young man and you're going to face it whether you like it or not…"

When he was standing next to her by the table, marvelling legitimately at the ingredients and potions laid thereon, Cecilia began to speak again.

"When the potion is completed it will afford you protection. Once it is used, you will be ever free of Voldermort, from your waking mind as much as your dreams." Cecilia led the conversation back to the information Harry had imparted to her right at the beginning of the school year when he described his scar aching and when he began to have dreams about Voldermort's activities.

"If you are, as you have said, willing to assist me, you must be prepared for me to talk frankly to you. When I teach I am allowed to sugar coat the pill; however in scientific research I will not do so. I need to make sure you are clear about that." As she spoke, Cecilia began to prepare the ingredients for the next blend of match, Harry watching her avidly.

"Whilst I can and will discuss any aspect of the work with you, any conversations we have are to remain strictly between ourselves and should not be discussed with anyone else. In return I will be frank with you and blunt as I expect you to be with me and I will answer any question you have." Cecilia paused.

"I give you this responsibility not because I do not wish to you share the work with those closest to you, but as a security measure…" otherwise I could be faced with one very angry godfather again, she added to herself. As her words trailed off Cecilia waited for her meaning to penetrate Harry's mind. Eventually he nodded.

"I understand, Mrs Frobisher," he said solemnly before looking at the vials of potion in his hands. "So what do you want me to do with these?"

An hour later and Harry had performed a number of spells on the potions Cecilia had brewed that afternoon, with varying insightful results. He had neither complained nor questioned her work, which Cecilia had been relieved about though he had needed a lot of prompting and guidance in carrying out the spells, as if he was afraid of the consequences. Eventually, when Cecilia had enough information, she told Harry to stop, asking him what his thoughts had been about the spells and the potions.

"Describe to me the effects of the last spell you just performed, for all nine of the samples, Harry," asked Cecilia as she sat, pen in hand. "Don't worry about my proximity, I do not wish them to inadvertently hit me," she added. It was not intended to be a jibe at Harry's behaviour but from the look on his face Cecilia felt a little sorry for phrasing it that way.

""Reducto" did nothing to the first three," began Harry, peering at the evaporating dishes that contained small samples of each blended potion, "the colour and…texture remains the same." He peered into the next dishes. "And for the fourth and fifth the samples have changed colour. The sixth one seems to be stuck to the dish, almost burned. And the seventh, eighth and ninth are all thinner than what they were." Harry walked over to Cecilia as she entered the information into her notebook.

"What are these samples, exactly?" he asked, picking up the three vials of match that Cecilia had made that afternoon. "They seem quite complicated."

"They are," said Cecilia, looking at Harry and taking one of the bottles from his hand. "The potion is made in two parts, one a base, which can be kept for a long time. It took five attempts for Professor Snape to make that one. The base is attuned to your magical energy which means that it harmonises with you body's natural frequency. As a wizard, all wizards have a natural frequency. Do you notice that some spells you can perform with ease, while other wizards have more difficulty? And some you struggle with others can use without having to think about it?" Harry nodded in agreement.

"For want of a better word, it's to do with your natural energy. This can be controlled to a certain extent with the base part of the potion and this – " Cecilia got to her feet and walked towards the back wall of the classroom. Harry watched as she selected a large beige bottle from the rack above before returning to where he was standing and handing to him.

"Elixir No. 5," she said, pointing to the label. "This is the base, your base. It fits your natural energy and resonance frequency."

"Hold on, you're saying that potions can be personalised?" He looked at the large bottle in his hand labelled with a paper note declaring it to be "Elixir No. 5". Cecilia nodded.

"Like muggle medicines, though cost effectiveness precludes it. The next part, the match is the one that links to your endocrine system. This is the bit of you that – "

"…controls hormones," said Harry quickly.

"…controls hormones," finished Cecilia, looking intriguingly at Harry. "Well remembered. This has a dual function in a wizard; not only is the physical energy from spells metabolised here but also – " Cecilia stopped, wondering whether she should continue.

"Yes?" asked Harry, setting down the half-full bottle of elixir base.

"…is linked to emotions…" She looked down at the base then back at Harry, reigning in her anticipated excitement of the direction of her thoughts. She had considered emotions before, but had not gone as far as mentioning it to Snape, and other things had taken priority. "Tell me Harry, does it matter, when you cast spells, how you are feeling?" Harry frowned, and Cecilia realised she wasn't making herself clear.

"Are there any differences to the effects of a spell, depending what mood you're in?" Harry's face turned into a picture of comprehension and he nodded.

"Yes, emotions change spells; Professor McGonagall tells Ron that all the time. He's not that good at transfiguration you know, and when he goes in feeling like he can't do it, the effects are worse. I mean, he went in once, thinking he had Ancient Runes, and the transfiguration lesson went much better because he wasn't wound up about it. And, like, with the Unforgivable curses, you have to mean the pain and suffering, or it won't work."

Cecilia said nothing for a moment, considering what Harry had just told her. The emotional state of a wizard had a bearing on the efficacy of a spell.

"Professor McGonagall said that was another reason why the school was founded, a thousand years ago, so our minds could be trained to cope and we could be more proficient. We could learn these things at home with our families but here, it's a better environment," Harry added in a concerned tone of voice; her lack of response making him feel uneasy.

Cecilia nodded again. Yes. That made perfect sense. The training of minds to let go of emotion, or to channel it appropriately. And it meant she could use this information in the plan of her own.

"Okay," said Cecilia, looking at her desk for the nine blended potions they were working on that day. "There's something I need you to try for me. We need to go to somewhere bigger, more space, and somewhere we won't be disturbed. Somewhere where no-one will be at this time of day."

In the silence that followed, the only sound that could be heard was a far-off chant of quidditch team supporters screaming the name of their house: "…go, go Gryffindor…Sly-hter-in…Sly-ther-in…"

"The Defence dungeon," said Harry, "that'll be empty. Everyone's out watching the match, anyway," he added regretfully.

As they stepped out into the corridor, Harry followed Cecilia along it and towards the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom carrying five of the blended potions in their vials. Around them the chants were growing louder, punctuated sporadically with louder cheers as one team or another scored a goal. Cecilia turned the handle of the Defence classroom door, making her way to the desk, not dissimilar to her own at the top of the room and placed the samples on it.

The last time she had been here, she had tended Snape's wounds; dressing them in murtlap essence to prevent infection and wondering with all her might how he had come to sustain them. All too well Cecilia knew now; had it been because of her that he had been caused that pain.

"Before we begin, Mrs Frobisher, can I ask you something else about the potion?" He placed the sample vials he was carrying next to those that Cecilia had placed on the table, looking round the dark, cold dungeon.

"What is you need to know, Harry?"

"The potion. How does it work? What will I feel? What will it be like?"

Cecilia looked at Harry, before sitting down on the chair by the Defence desk.

"I have told you, have I not, that when the potion is finished, it will be as perfect as ever we can make it?" Harry nodded in agreement, looking earnestly at Cecilia as she sought the words to continue.

"It will do its job; you will cast a spell that will destroy Voldermort, one that is controlled in part by your emotions. That spell will be the only one you can cast, for at that moment, all your other magical abilities will be subdued, reduced right down, in effect adding more power to the one which you must cast. That is to say, your own magic, anything magical of you Harry Potter, will be gone and what will be left is what Voldermort transferred to you as a by-product of your mother's love. The protection that Voldermort took from you will be returned and in so doing, you need to channel it into the spell to which the potion will be attuned. That's how it works. I cannot begin to describe to you how you will feel, nor what it will be like. Perhaps you could save that question for Professor Snape?" Cecilia raised her eyebrow, waiting for Harry to conform that he was satisfied with what she had told him and eventually he turned back to face her, nodding.

"Let us begin, shall we?" Cecilia said, getting to her feet. The dungeon, though cold was the right size for the spell she needed Harry to conjure and she proceeded to instruct Harry as to the spell he was to cast.

Half an hour later and Cecilia had recorded the effects of the Patronus charm that Harry had used to defend himself on eighteen occasions against the nine potions. She had instructed him to perform the charm twice, the second time to change his emotional thought to incorporate a feeling of fear of failure. Once or twice, Harry seemed to lose focus, but he managed to hold his Patronus, a glowing white stag, on each occasion long enough for it to act as a shield against the benign potions.

A drained and exhausted Harry staggered back to one of the benches once he had finished. Cecilia crossed over to inspect the samples, noting any differences in appearance, colour and texture before labelling them accordingly (she would need to analyse them scientifically later on), glancing over her shoulder at Harry and marvelling at how well he had worked. Once she had finished she told him so, congratulating him on his magical abilities.

"I've been wondering, Mrs Frobisher," Harry replied, "you say when the potion is ready. Have you used…what you left the castle for last week?" He broke off, a blush entering his cheeks. Ah, thought Cecilia, I wondered when we'd get to that.

"I've used every piece of information that I've collected where it was intended, Harry. The sample I collected from your parents' house I have used as I intended to. It will have made the final potion safe for you."

Cecilia crossed back over to the table she made to collect more of the potions again while the information she had given to Harry sunk in again before she asked him to perform another spell. Assembling the evaporating dishes on the same bench where the potion samples had been just now she made her way over to the recovering young wizard, whose breathing rate had decreased now that he was resting.

"Tell me about your teachers of Defence," she continued, sitting across from Harry, handing him a handkerchief to mop his perspiration-drenched brow. "I understand you've had a good many of them over the years." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Professor Yellis is our fifth," he agreed. "He's not bad actually, far better than the maniac we had in the first year, Quirrell," Harry looked darkly at Cecilia who registered the tale Harry had told her about Voldermort parasitic existence underneath his turban. "The best was our third year Professor; the one we had in our second year was a twit and we had Moody in our fourth, though Barty Crouch junior in disguise."

"You like Defence, I take it," said Cecilia, smiling at Harry a little.

"It's just so cool!" he enthused, "but not when we have to do theory. Doing the practical is far better – " Just like science, thought Cecilia watching as Harry made his way towards the back of the classroom, clearly recovered from his exertions of the Patronus charm, and made his way up the pulpit-like stairs and into the room at the back of the dungeon.

Ignoring the teacher-like alarm in her mind that a student was entering, for want of a better word, a staffroom, Cecilia followed Harry into a medium-sized office that contained what looked like Professor Yellis's belongings. The room was about as big as her bedroom in the teacher's quarters and she stopped in the process of chastising Harry for interfering.

"Here," said Harry, handing Cecilia a book. The spine bore the title, "Defence against the Dark Arts" and it was written by Hestia Nobble a witch, Cecilia mused, that seemed to know a great deal about defence.

"All the spells we're supposed to know for our Owls," said Harry, darkly. "We've hardly had a chance to cover them, though Hermione's learned them by heart. "How are we supposed to do our practical when Yellis won't let us practice? Each lesson we seem to cram, cram, cram from this stupid book!" Cecilia nodded, recalling similar teaching exercises in muggle schools.

"On behalf of all the teachers everywhere, I apologise," laughed Cecilia, handing the book back to Harry. "Sadly it is the way of examinations these days; there is little in the science curriculum that depends on practical ability. Not so can be said of Defence," she added sympathetically. Harry nodded, replacing the book back on its shelf.

"The best bit about magic is doing it," continued Harry, picking up what looked like a set of short stubby keys from Professor Yellis's desk. "I mean, when we could actually see the Boggart, and we could defend ourselves from it. And when we learned about how to bewitch fire and trap fairies for their glow…" Harry's eyes glazed over as he reminisced, "...we learned loads, and had a really good time when Professor Lupin taught us – "

Cecilia felt her face begin to glow, and she looked down at the floor. Of course she knew Remus had taught Defence, but she hadn't expected Harry to mention his time at the school with such fond reverence…

"I'm sorry, Mr Frobisher," Harry began, putting down what he had picked up from the table, but Cecilia raised a hand.

"Don't be, Harry. Now – "

"There's something I would like to ask you Mrs Frobisher," Harry interrupted quickly. "You came back when you're not really involved in this now. Why?" Cecilia stopped, steadying herself on the huge oak table in the centre of the Defence office. That wasn't the question she was expecting Harry to ask her. She swallowed, pushing her emotions deep down inside.

"I am as involved as anyone, Harry," she said steadily. "Eight hundred muggles were murdered by Voldermort at Halloween. Events like this that have taken place in the muggle world might have had repercussions on - " Cecilia stopped, rephrasing what she was trying to say.

"The same could be said about you," she continued, looking into Harry's green eyes, darkened in the failing light. "You could have told Dumbledore that you wished to quit; your mother saved your life and you could have continued to live your life at Hogwarts without Voldermort concerning you. Yet you chose to become involved for a reason…" As Cecilia trailed her sentence off into nothing, she saw Harry's features change into comprehension.

"Tell me about Christmas Eve, at Grimmauld Place," Harry said quickly, his tone forthright and instructive. Though catching her off-guard Cecilia shook her head, a gesture of finality in it.

"Nothing that transpired there has a bearing on this work. I made a promise, Harry that I wouldn't get involved with your lives any more and remain professional."

"But you_ are_ involved! You're part of the wizard world, Mrs Frobisher!" The look of astonishment Cecilia gave him made him look away. "I can't depend on anything if you're not involved in the potion," he confessed quietly. Cecilia smiled kindly.

"You flatter me Harry, far more than I deserve – "

"I _am_ actually sorry for what I did," Harry continued, ignoring Cecilia's protests. "I'm nearly sixteen and I should not have attacked you. And if I could apologise on behalf of Sirius I would…"

Cecilia stopped. That was the first time that she had ever heard Harry speak out against Sirius Black, the man who was as close to a father figure to Harry as anyone could be.

"And you act like everything's cool between us," continued Harry. "Aren't you angry with me?"

"No," said Cecilia softly. "I should be I suppose, but I'm not. What good would that do?"

"Nor with Hermione…" Cecilia shook her head.

"Then what can I do Mrs Frobisher?" asked Harry, his face now much paler and filled with concern. Cecilia sighed and began to walk towards the fireplace, the dying embers giving way to crackling sparks and began to look into it.

"You can listen to the information that is given to you, considering everything in its entirety and then make up your own mind. You are nearly of Age in this world, and when you are you'll realise, if you haven't done so already that, as an adult, the consequences of your actions fall back into your own lap and you have to take responsibility for them, whatever the outcome." She turned and looked at Harry, who seemed to have grown paler still and was beginning to shake.

"That, and make sure Ron and Hermione are at least on speaking terms when I'm gone," she added.

"When you're gone?" asked Harry, shocked; his mind racing through ever incredible possibilities. "Gone where?" Cecilia smiled.

"When I return to the muggle world," replied Cecilia lightly. "When it's all over."

Harry looked at Cecilia, his eyes narrowing slightly as uncertainty appeared momentarily in his mind over her last answer.

"C…could I ask you something else, Mrs Frobisher?" Harry pressed, changing the subject. His tone was much quieter and more reserved now. "It's a personal question," he clarified.

"As long as it is not repeated, Harry then you may ask me anything, as were the terms of our agreement." Harry nodded, before picking up the stumpy keys again.

"You were married…what does being in love feel like?"

At Harry's words, Cecilia began to feel as if the door to her private emotional store had been kicked open. She ran the question over in her mind for a few moments before finally settling on an appropriate choice of words.

"It's like," she began, looking pointedly at Harry's face, "like you would do anything to make sure that the person you care about wasn't hurt…was safe. It feels like you would sacrifice anything of yourself, of your life if it meant they were truly happy."

A moment passed where neither Cecilia nor Harry said anything. Both of them retreated into their own worlds, contemplating her words in the darkening environment of Professor Yellis's office. Finally Harry looked at Cecilia.

"Did you love Lupin?"

The question hung in the air for a few moments as Cecilia absorbed what Harry had asked her. She could feel lump in her throat grow quickly and she fought the bitter, stinging pain in her chest, her nose tingling as she analysed the question.

"Yes, Harry, I do. I love Remus Lupin very much."

Cecilia swallowed, fighting back her emotions and she fixed her thoughts on the set of books on the shelf above Harry's head, waiting for them to pass.

Now I know why Dumbledore didn't insist on a greater punishment for me, Harry thought as he watched the spectrum of emotions that appeared on Cecilia's face. This is punishment enough, knowing what she's done on my account. I never realised there was so much behind what she was doing!

"I beg of you not to ask any more of me; I fear it is unprofessional." She smiled as best as she could at Harry and, gesturing towards the door of the office added, "we should get back to the task in hand."

"Now, the next spell I need you to carry out is probably going to be complicated," said Cecilia when they were back in the centre of the Defence dungeon. Harry followed Cecilia quietly as she made her way to the table where she had placed the potions beforehand.

"I need you to focus on your good memory that you use for the Patronus charm," she continued, pouring put the nine completed potions into the dishes, their contents glimmering milkily.

"It's mum and dad," said Harry as he watched her pour out the potions, "they're my happy memory." Cecilia turned to Harry, spilling a little of the fourth potion onto the table as she looked at the young wizard.

"Harry – " Cecilia began, but he shook his head.

"I know what you mean about love," he continued, smiling at her broadly now. "It's like they did what they could for me. Mum's emotion. Mum's love. She helped me by changing the spell, altering it." Cecilia said nothing. Harry's words were enough; they were truly insightful.

"I can see the importance now," he pressed on, grinning now as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. "Thank you for going, Mrs Frobisher, and getting what you needed. Thank you for caring so much about this."

Cecilia was about to reply, but at first she did not know what to say. It was not her own personal intrinsic feeling of care for Harry that had driven her from Hogwarts; neither was it selfish. More a care for the quest of perfection, of pride she supposed, that was the closest description she could find. For she was determined at the outset to ensure that Harry did not consume the potion nor undertake the task himself in any case. Which if she supposed, amounted to her caring for his welfare after all.

"If I can share one last thing with you Harry, before we proceed with the nullification spell, the effect of the spell, thanks to your mother's love caused you, in muggle scientific language, to have had an immunisation against Voldermort. When he uses his magic against you without your other powers shielding them, you will drain more of his until there is nothing left of him. There is one spell you will need and we will only know if it will work for sure if you take it when you carry put the plan. This is why the plan is so dangerous, Harry." Cecilia picked up the fifth potion and swiftly poured an aliquot into the evaporating dish before recorking what remained and picking up the sixth.

"Which spell is it, Mrs Frobisher?" asked Harry quickly, the urgency and excitement in his voice preventing her to press them back to their work and for a split second it crossed Cecilia's mind to tell him. She sighed, and pulled out the stopper from the sixth potion.

"For this information I refer you to Professor Dumbledore as this concerns the part of the plan connected to the Order. I am not at liberty to tell you it…"

"But can you tell me what will happen afterwards?" Cecilia stopped and turned to Harry again, regretting again that afternoon telling him that she would speak to him honestly.

"At worst…I cannot predict the effects. You may die. At best…" she paused, setting down the sixth potion and picking up the seventh, "…there is no guarantee your powers will ever return."

88888888

"Harry…"

"Sirius, I shouldn't be here. Your letter said it was urgent…" Before the fire in the Charms classroom, Harry sat cross-legged in his pyjamas, his invisibility cloak gathered in a heap by his side.

"Harry…yes…I need to speak to you," Sirius hissed, the green flames crackling about his head as he spoke. Harry shuffled in his sitting position, hoping that it wasn't going to be like the last time he and Sirius talked via the Floo network.

"I take it this isn't connected to the McGonagall's fireplace," said Harry, recalling how mortifying it had been when she had replayed their last illicit conversation with Sirius in front of Dumbledore.

"Quite safe," whispered Sirius quickly, recalling too his own ignominy. "Look, something's up Harry…Mrs Frobisher – "

"Not her again, Sirius," complained Harry, rolling her eyes, "she's actually been through a lot – "

"And she will go through a lot more unless you heed what I have to say. The Order is ready, prepared, for you to use the weapon. Dumbledore put us on alert, including me, which can only mean one thing – "

Harry shuffled again before the fireplace. …whatever the effects of the potion, it's going to be so powerful that it won't matter if I'm in the open or not…

"You still don't have to take it, Harry. Think about it…think about your parents…"

"I am, Sirius, I have. And Dumbledore's right – "

"Wizards have died!" exclaimed Sirius, shaking his head.

"Yes," agreed Harry evenly, "many of them, and muggles too. Even those from your own family tried to stop it. The enemy's Voldermort, not muggles…"

"I know…"

"It's – " Harry paused uncertainly. As much as he loved Sirius, he couldn't quite bring himself to share the confusing feelings that were locked within him at the moment.

"I don't need to know, Harry. I have long since got over the idea that Mrs Frobisher is going to harm you. However, she is in danger." Harry stared at the inflamed features of his Godfather speaking to him in the hearth.

"Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you, Harry for the consequences may yet concern you. It appears that Snape and Kreacher exchanged mutually beneficial information at Christmastime. Kreacher informed me that Snape is to hand Mrs Frobisher over to Voldermort in exchange for his life."

Sirius stopped speaking, his features flickering every so often in the floo-light. Harry felt his mouth fall open.

"It's Snape I'm concerned about, the git," continued Sirius, snarling as he spoke his adversary's name. "He's there, controlling everything…controlling her…like he always had to be…!"

Harry looked at his godfather, taken aback slightly at Sirius's vehemently open insult of Snape. He was aware he didn't like Snape but this was the first time Sirius had expressed such bitter anger about him in front of Harry.

"…then we have to warn her…" whispered Harry, leaning closer to the fireplace. "We have to tell her what's going on…" He waited for his godfather to acknowledge him.

Time passed…

"Look you shouldn't even be speaking to me," hissed back Sirius. "I'll admit, I don't like what she's done, what she's doing, where she went last week but I don't relish the thought of what will happen to her in front of Death Eaters, especially since I declared her misborn…"

That didn't make sense, thought Harry. If she was warned about it then she wouldn't be facing them.

"So you're sorry then?" Sirius stopped and looked at Harry quickly.

"Harry, I am ashamed of actions. Do not get me wrong, I dislike Mrs Frobisher and all that she stands for, however I was mistaken to call her such a cowardly thing and encourage you to do likewise." Sirius hung his flaming head eight inches from the hearthplace. "I am no better than Regulus for it."

Harry said nothing, waiting for Sirius to make the next move. He knew about Sirius's brother, of course; living at Grimmauld Place for a summer and two Christmases meant things like that leaked out osmotically. But he had never heard Sirius talk about Regulus, or use his name. The few times he had talked about him in Harry's hearing he had referred to him as "that brother of mine, mother's favourite". But what did he have to do with all this?

Harry waited and more time passed, so much so that Harry began to believe that the floo connection had become faulty and had frozen. Eventually Sirius moved and looked directly at Harry and when he did, Harry was sure he saw tears in his godfather's eyes.

"I…I once declared another muggle misborn, Harry and was the cause of their death." Sirius's voice was hushed and low, and Harry shuffled forward to hear him. "The muggle was tortured and killed in order for another loyal to Voldermort to prove his allegiance. I do not wish it to happen again."

Harry said nothing. Sirius had done this before? And that was the result? He swallowed a few times as he digested the information, holding himself back from pressing Sirius for more details.

"Mrs Frobisher's made the potion," said Harry finally, "and I'm actually glad she went and got a bit of mum. She's making sure it'll all work out fine…"

A bump outside the classroom door made Harry break off and he turned quickly in its direction.

"I've got to go," said Harry, reaching for his cloak. "Someone's out there…"

"Find out, Harry, for your sake…find out what the potion contains and what she it is designed to do…" Sirius looked urgently at Harry as he got to his feet. "…there's more to this than meets the eye...promise me..."

As Sirius's head faded in the grate, Harry threw on his invisibility cloak, disguising himself from sight as the Charms classroom door handle rattled.

I promise, thought Harry, as Argus Filch peered inquisitively round the door, searching no doubt for intruders, …I promise Sirius that for once I'm going to ignore your advice and do what I agreed to do…

88888888

It was nearly two in the morning of the last Saturday in February and Cecilia had not yet gone to bed. She cast her glance at the array of potions, both blended and single base and match that stood on the table at the back of the muggle studies classroom.

Looking down at her notebook and back to the potion she had just blended, Cecilia's heart sank low again as the flobberworm she had just dosed with the latest batch stopped writhing and began to turn yellow, a sign that it had gone to meet its maker.

Just like the last three hundred and seventy I've killed in the last six weeks, thought Cecilia grimly as she took it away from the others and threw it into the fire.

At least Harry had been an asset since he had visited her and apologised for his actions and, true to his word, he had attended every evening to assist Cecilia in a wizardly capacity, performing the spells she'd asked and (to Cecilia's somewhat grateful relief) keeping questions strictly professional. Harry talked about Ron and Hermione with Cecilia; what they were studying in other classes; his visits to Hagrid's…small talk.

Through his help Cecilia could say, hand on heart that she had nearly found the match that went with the base, Elixir Number 5. With the exception of the toxicological effects, it fitted every other criterion, being neither too energetic nor weak, being neither too great nor small in frequency. The ingredients complemented one another and the potion as a whole blend responded as she expected to the emotional challenge.

Here she was, yet again, Cecilia Frobisher, standing in the muggle studies classroom completing yet another batch, ready for Harry to investigate tomorrow, which would be both a step towards one goal and at the same time take her away from another.

And now, stirring the thinning black substance which pervaded pungent fumes, staring out of the classroom window into the dark night, the answer to how she was going to carry out her plan, fully formed, crept into her mind like a spider creeping over her shoulder and into her ear. It was that simple. So simple. So easy.

Cecilia put aside her aggravation of Snape's absence from their work (he was teaching once more though visiting the hospital wind once a day for treatment and she had been visiting him when he allowed her to, in order to keep him up to speed with their developments) and contemplated the plan and its plain simplicity, wondering why it hadn't occurred to her before.

Perhaps, she thought, it was because of the information she was writing into her notebook of her pursuit of the ratio of ingredients in the match. It could, on the other hand be because she had re-read as the next batch of potions were on the boil. Another alternative was that it was a case of reductive factors; her mind going over and over the possibilities subconsciously and re-evaluating the variables as they changed.

Whatever the reason it didn't matter, she smiled to herself in the dark environs of the muggle studies classroom, because now she, Cecilia Frobisher, suddenly knew exactly how she was going to make it all right for everyone.

Shortly after Cecilia had thought those thoughts, she found herself negotiating her way into the Gryffindor common room, past the Fat Lady (students obviously did not realised how well complements worked when one was short of the password) and into the large, welcoming sitting room. Looking round, Cecilia wondered where she needed to go next however she did not have to visit the girls' dormitories to find Hermione as the young witch was sitting on a chair by the dying fire with her head in her hands.

Hermione was happy enough to help her, explaining to Cecilia that she and Ron had had another row, but at least they were talking, and just about friend. He understood that she liked him, she said, liked him like that, and that it was OK…

And when the girl returned the conversation to Cecilia's nocturnal visit she removed what was tucked up in her jacket pocket, a little vial of a particular potion, all ready for use…

But Cecilia was a muggle, Hermione had insisted; Cecilia wasn't able to use a wizard potion without coming to harm. Nether, Hermione had added, could Cecilia brew it herself; it would always be an inert blend of herbs and innocuous bits of animal under Cecilia's powerless hands…

Had anyone looked at the scene in the common room, they would have seen the muggle studies teacher and one of the school's brightest fifth year students engage in a hushed, animated but brief discussion, following which, Hermione and Cecilia sealed their pact by shaking hands…

"Thank you," said Cecilia as Hermione saw her hurriedly out of the common room. "You've saved your friend, you know that?"

"Bye Mrs Frobisher," added Hermione as Cecilia climbed through the hole that led to the back of the Fat Lady's picture frame. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," she added and Cecilia stopped, waiting for the young witch to finish her sentence.

"Fifteen centuries ago there were such things as research wizards, who worked out the best spells for wizards to use. The standard ones that we learn. That Hogwarts students have always learned. That's great isn't it?" she added, obviously waiting for Cecilia to be equally thrilled.

"Sorry Hermione, it's been a long night. What's great?" Hermione took a few steps towards her teacher.

"Well, they did what you are dong now, but for wizards," she nodded and Cecilia nodded too; the brilliance of such a young mind illuminating the common room's darkness.

And then Cecilia took a slow walk back to the muggle studies classroom, the urgency to get there almost entirely absent now and the random thought to check Snape was sleeping restfully in the hospital wing as she had done each night since his horrific torture dissolving to nothing as the thought of her plan concealed it. True, it depended on the potion being perfect. But there were a few less things troubling her mind now…

…Cecilia Frobisher awoke to the school clock tolling five o'clock, and to the rhythmic beat of Dobby rocking her desk violently and she realised she had not only slept in the classroom again but, more importantly, she had not completed the latest potion.

"Lady did not come to dinner last night," scolded the house elf, his bobble hat bouncing around his head. "Nor did Lady come down to the kitchen to fetch any."

"Morning, Dobby," Cecilia yawned, wiping the sleep from her eyes and throwing her dull and lifeless hair over her shoulder and smiled wearily at the house elf. "How would it be if I came down to the kitchen now and helped you with the dinner?"

Cecilia watched as the offer of her company made Dobby pause in his leaping around and grin excitedly.

"But of course Lady is always welcome in the kitchen, Dobby is sure of this. But Lady should take care, for she is in dreadful danger!" His voice was an agitated squeak as he began to hop from one foot to another. Cecilia smiled and she got to her feet, knocking a few pages of her loose leaf notes onto the floor.

"Thank you for warning me, Dobby," she replied, stooping to pick them up, "I'll make sure I'm careful." Making her way to the door, Cecilia stopped as Dobby stood in her way.

"But Lady is surely coming to the kitchen now. Lady is not going back to her room!" Cecilia stooped to his level and smiled again.

"Lady is going to her room, having a hot bath and getting changed before she comes down to see Dobby, Winky and Bingo," declared Cecilia firmly and, picking up Dobby by his middle she placed him to one side and stepped out of the classroom, bumping into two students who were bent at half-height with their ears pressed to the door.

Harry and Ron looked at each other sheepishly as they backed towards the sandstone wall of the classroom corridor.

"Lads?" asked Cecilia, surprised. "What are you doing here, out of dorms so early?" She looked between the two waywardly faces before her then adding, "why are you following me…?"

"Mrs Frobisher," began Harry as she looked doubtfully at expressions, "you must stop what you're doing!"

"Yeah," agreed Ron, nodding his head.

"What do you mean?" asked Cecilia, feeling a flush of guilt sweep over her as she took a step towards them.

"You've got to stop what you're going to do, Mrs Frobisher," continued Harry, his voice and mannerisms adamant and bold. "We need to tell you Mrs Frobisher…we know something's going on with you and Professor Snape…" Ron looked at Harry and nodded in agreement.

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?" Cecilia asked wearily and shaking her head in disbelief. Did they know? Had Hermione told them?

"Snape," said Ron urgently, stepping forward and looking earnestly at Cecilia. "He's going to betray you, Mrs Frobisher, he's going to hand you over to the Death Eaters in exchange for his life…"

Cecilia felt her face freeze in an effort not to laugh hysterically and smiled instead, trying not to let her mirth at such a preposterous suggestion show.

"Professor Snape what?" she asked seriously. "Look lads, Professor Snape is the most loyal friend I have here, he is an honest man who has never once let me down." Cecilia watched the look of incredulity pass between them. "It's sweet of you both to care," she added, "but I trust him. And you should trust me if it's the potion you are worried about, Harry," she added, patting him on the shoulder consolingly.

"But – "

"You have to trust me that it will be the safest I can make it." She smiled at Harry and Ron, nodding to indicate that she had spoken her final word on it.

"But Mrs Frobisher – " Cecilia held up a hand.

"Harry…"

"…we're telling you the truth!" exclaimed Ron, hotly. "We, er, overheard him telling Malfoy…" Harry looked at Ron, an expression of confusion fleeting across his features. Cecilia laughed.

"A rouse no doubt, probably to protect our cover." Cecilia smiled inwardly as she saw the defeated look pass between them now. "And if you're here so early in the morning Harry, perhaps you could examine the next samples I prepared last night? I'd like your opinion," she added as she proceeded back into the muggle studies classroom. The boys followed her as Cecilia made her way to the selection of potions on the back table.

"How's it going with Hermione now?" continued Cecilia conversationally to Ron as Harry looked at the mixture and Ron began to blush red again, looking pointedly at one of the potions in a vial on the table.

"OK," he conceded, "but we had a row – " Harry gave him a knowing sidelong glance. "Well, Hermione fancying me is no worse than you fancying Tonks!" he exclaimed. Cecilia chose that moment to pay close attention to the flobberworms that appeared to be asleep in one of the containers to the left of the latest potion, allowing Harry's flush of embarrassment to wane before addressing him.

"I think it'll change with the nullification charm," said Harry. "It was like the one you made on Tuesday, but because you've altered it a bit, it'll hold out longer." Cecilia nodded. It was exactly what she hoped Harry would say, which meant it would be exactly what they needed.

"So I'll see you later this evening, Harry?" Cecilia asked, smiling at the two errant young wizards. "I'll have blended the next one by then, and we'll have three to work with."

"Can we help you?" asked Ron, excitedly. "We can come back later to help, both of us. Please?" he added, pleadingly.

"Haven't you got Hogsmeade to go to?" Cecilia asked, recalling the two sentences she had read on a piece of parchment a couple of days ago, which meant the fifth years were excused from their Saturday lesson and she watched as the look on Harry's face changed to misery.

"I'm banned from quidditch or Hogsmeade trips because of…what I did…" he began, and Cecilia nodded in confirmation as she ushered them towards the door.

"…well we'll see how much fun we can make this, shall we? There are still plenty of spells we haven't tried yet…"

…after a quite interesting, if not very productive Saturday, Cecilia took herself back to her room at teatime to contemplate the results of her findings.

From what she could see the boys had managed to narrow down three blends of the secondary potions that would be a suitable match for Harry's base.

Two of the three matches seemed almost perfect, giving results in the correct energy and frequency ranges to inhibit three of the most emotionally-dependent spells that Harry had used but it just depended now on whether they would produce sufficiently compatible with the base potion and whether they would yield acceptable results with the use do the Avada Kedavra curse.

But it didn't worry Cecilia now, as she paced her room in front of the wardrobe that shielded her from any watchful eyes that might appear in the fireplace, past her locked door and dully-lit room.

What was occupying her thoughts at the moment was whether she would be able to enact her own plan quickly enough once they had got the perfect blend without being stopped. She had the objective, and the means. But it had to be planned well to succeed and at the moment there was too much room for error.

She threw her clothes into a huge pile, and walked through the door into the bathroom, anticipating the soothing soak, her mind filling with every permutation and outcome possible.

Half an hour later, and with darkness falling Cecilia walked back into the Muggle Studies classroom. To her utter shock and amazement she found Snape looking through her eighth (and latest) notebook, the pages open at the work that Harry and Ron had carried out that day.

"Tell me," he said, looking up as she entered, "how you have managed to be so successful with the match in my absence?"

Cecilia looked past him at the bubbling cauldron, then back to Snape, trying not to let her feelings of spill over into her voice or actions and she occluded her emotions as she concentrated on the facts. He was well. They could continue.

"I had the assistance I was promised. And it was lucky I did," she added chidingly, "I don't usually allow ill health as an excuse for absence." Cecilia smiled inwardly at his immediate cold frown.

"It is lucky then, that my absence is not permanent. Otherwise you might never have come to the correct conclusion when you choose two incompetent students to assist you." Snape turned and looked at the contents of the cauldron and Cecilia made her way over to him. He was well…

"I don't understand, Severus," Cecilia frowned, looking at the liquid that was congealing around the inside of the pot. "I retested the base, which was fine, then made the match which Harry tested. And look, it's still doing that to the flobberworms…" she pointed towards a pot on the table that had been the result of an Impedimenta jinx.

"I told you it was ready. Both parts," began Snape, in a low voice, looking at Cecilia and ignoring the deceased magical creatures.

"The match, to your specifications, is clearly at least an order of magnitude out and it's still causing fatalities," Cecilia argued, gesturing at the potion's unfortunate victims.

Snape's eyes narrowed, and he turned slowly to look at the test subjects. They were clearly dead; unable to absorb and metabolise the energy from the spell and Cecilia folded her arms, ready for the fight. The potion in its current state was the correct energy and frequency for Harry but would probably kill him.

"I told you this was ready," he repeated sternly. "And I am too tired to argue with you. The weapon has to be completed tonight for the widespread attack on groups of muggles to celebrate the Dark Lord's return is planned. Once it is completed, I am to instruct Harry in carrying out the spell and alert Minerva to contact the Order."

Cecilia felt her mouth drop open. It was the first time Snape had openly admitted weakness to her but what caught her more off balance was that he had just told her directly of Voldermort's plan and the counter-offensive.

Her first instinct was to worry at the insistence of science on demand and the next was to question Snape to make sure she had heard correctly. Instead, Cecilia smiled happily for the first time in two months and picked up the base solution.

"Let's finish this, shall we?"

88888888

"…now we should have it…"

Snape paced around the cauldron that sat over the large seething fire. Cecilia went to retrieve it but Snape had already unhooked it from the large iron hook from which it had hitherto been suspended and summoned it to the back bench. She made her way over to the table, watching intensely as he landed the flying cauldron on an iron trivet.

He was right, thought Cecilia as she investigated the contents, and it would have been perfect weeks ago if she had not misread Snape's handwriting and had used boomslang skin instead of bomberskein skin.

For the dozenth time that evening she felt a pang of imperfect worry enter her stomach. If only she had not departed the castle almost a month ago, then Snape probably would have not been tortured, and she would not have made such a mistake, a mistake they had spent the last six hours correcting. Was this enough time, she wondered, for Snape to test the Avada Kedavra spell? Would he allow her to speak to Harry as a diversion while he sent word to Minerva that the potion was ready so she could enacting her plan?

Distantly, the school bell tolled eleven and, as Cecilia recorded the information of the match potion that they had spent the preceding time honing the match to perfection she shivered, taking her notebook back over to the match, recording its appearance and consistency.

Perfection. Perfect. They were at liberty to say that now. Ignoring the toxicological tests the match, as the base, had passed all the other criteria and would, if taken by Harry at the most opportune moment, allow him to curse Voldermort using the Avada Kedavra curse and thus destroy him.

In her head, the words sounded so simple. In a matter of hours, the world's most terrible threat, both to muggles and wizards, would be gone and those who were involved could bask in the aftermath that freedom would bring.

As her mind drifted to its efficacy, Snape stood next to her, looking analytically at the match that they had made. Cecilia turned slowly to him and spoke softly, putting down her notebook and chewed biro next to the potion.

"It's so nearly perfect, Severus," she began, "but we still don't know what will happen to Harry…" She looked away quickly from him and back at the match, feeling her heart sink at the prospect that at some stage soon Harry would be asked whether he was still willing to risk his life for the sake of the plan.

The orange sludge that was the match potion expounded gas bubbles infrequently and she turned to Snape, who was still looking at her.

"…so nearly perfect," she lamented softly, looking down. Snape tilted her chin so Cecilia was looking at him and he put a finger to her lips.

"It's close to perfection, Cecilia. It will do the job…" Light was shining in Snape's eyes for the first time that she could recall. Relief, thought Cecilia. It would be over for him as much as anyone in a few hours…

"But Harry," Cecilia insisted, shaking off Snape and walking back towards her desk. In the days to follow she was determined that no-one should think that she was ignorant of the boy's wellbeing, even though he wouldn't be taking it now. Snape followed her, taking up her notebook and, wordlessly, opening it to the page of results that Cecilia herself had written.

It was perfect, Cecilia thought, scanning the numbers and figures. On paper it –

"…passes all the tests. We cannot determine, or control, what will happen once the potion is used." Cecilia nodded, closing the notebook. She had known that all along.

Looking at the rest, piled untidily to one side of her desk her mind fleeted over the events of the weeks and months that she had come to know in this world. It was perfect. The perfect blend of science and magic.

"Severus, when I'm gone, could you make sure people know about this? I'd hate to think of all our hard work gone to waste." Cecilia turned quickly and spoke hastily to Snape. Behind him the match exploded a small gas bubble on its surface.

"…gone?" he asked, his wrinkled brow wrinkling further. "Gone where?"

"Home," clarified Cecilia guiltily, "and my memory modified. I've done what I was employed to do. We've made Harry's potion." A wash of emotion began to build in her stomach. And now it was over, for her at any rate. It soon would be. Snape took a few steps towards the pile of books, opening the front cover of one of them.

"Well, it would seem you have made an extremely conscientious effort to preserve our work," he intoned, scanning down the contents page. "I have barely had time to read all of their contents; no doubt Professor Dumbledore will be impressed. He approves of such things," he added wryly.

Snape took a couple of steps towards Cecilia, and she noticed that his expression had changed to one of near-serenity, if that were possible. Far less troubled than she had ever seen him.

"Before that unhappy fate that you have describes befalls you, Cecilia, we must make haste. And I would be remiss in the professionalism as a colleague, and regard as a colleague if I did not admit to you that…whatever your endearment for other wizards whom you have had, if I may say, the misfortune to cross your path, we made a good team…" He broke off as Cecilia shot him a look.

"You know about – " Cecilia stopped. Was he being sarcastic?

"I know of your feelings for Black. I am given to understand that his embrace is extremely hard to ignore…" Cecilia looked at him in astonishment. That was the last thing she expected Snape to say to her, now of all moments. "If it makes you feel any better, Cecilia, you are not the first," he added,

"What?! How?!" spluttered Cecilia, trying to understand what Snape was trying to tell her. He knew about their kiss…he was regretful of Sirius's condemnation of her…?

"Occlumency is a powerful tool, though not given the credit that it undoubtedly deserves. So few choose to study it with any degree of seriousness." Snape continued to stare at her fixedly as Cecilia's mind filled with defensive thoughts. She folded her arms indignantly.

"You've been reading my mind?!" she exclaimed. "What exactly have you found out?"

"Only that," he replied, his face still and voice steady. "I interpreted your feelings for your own protection, Cecilia. Minds are not as a book, to be flipped open and read at leisure. I knew you had followed me that evening, of your birthday. I wished to see that you were safe." He watched her face grow redder and more annoyed. "If it makes you feel any better this was the first and last time."

"Why doesn't that surprise me, another wizard thinking he can take what he likes without considering my feelings…" she broke off her quiet rhetoric and looked down, feeling somewhat foolish that she had trusted yet another wizard. Why was he telling her this, though?

"Your mind is particularly stubborn, Cecilia," Snape continued, taking a few steps towards her. "When I knew he had invited you to the Yule Ball, I was concerned for your safety. I intended to accompany you for your own protection; Black has taken a muggle life before. Not a day has gone by that I have not regretted my answering the call…" But Cecilia was not listening now.

…Sirius…he wanted to kill me all along…

She shook her head in disbelief and Snape took a few more steps in her direction.

"That has always been Black's plan, that you would not return to Hogwarts and complete the work. I warned Dumbledore of my suspicions, however our past history somewhat…coloured Dumbledore's interpretation of my warning. And as such, the supercilious, arrogant charmer almost managed to make his plan succeed…"

…he'd admitted as much……Sirius had no feelings for her…

"…you would not have been the first muggle to be killed at his hand…"

…what a fool she was… he'd used her…played her as he's played Snape for a fool all those years ago…

When I'm gone she thought to herself, looking up into Snape's dark, unfathomable eyes, maybe they will be kinder in viewing the courage of muggles.

"However perhaps if you had acceded my warning…" Snape shook his head mockingly, as if sharing a long-past private joke and Cecilia cursed inwardly at her own stupidity.

"Yes, it's my impetuosity that you love the most, Severus," she said bitterly, turning her head and looking at the ingredients of the match potion, laid out perfectly on the page in her final notebook.

"No, its your mind I love the most, Cecilia…" She turned back quickly to look at him and opened her mouth to say something. Snape put a finger on her lips.

"No time to talk about that now…you need to listen to what I have to say."

"What…?" Cecilia managed, feeling confusion flood her face as her heart began to race.

"I've said it before and I'll make no apologies for saying it again; I've never met anyone who could talk like you," he chided sternly, frowning as Cecilia conceded to silence. "You really could get much further if you listened more than you spoke." Ignoring her look of indignant incredulity, he carried on, pressing his hand firmly to her mouth.

"Whatever happens this night, whether we survive this, I need to tell you…" Snape brought his face closer to Cecilia and she found herself looking into his eyes, feeling herself drawn into the deep chasms that were reflected therein.

"I have never known anyone…anyone as intelligent – " Snape leant forward and placed his lips softly on the top of her head, " – or as wise as you, Cecilia Frobisher."

Cecilia gasped as Snape took a few steps back, turning on his heel and making his way swiftly to the table.

"I now have the match," he declared, clicking his fingers. Adjacent to the now-cool match they had just brewed a cauldron appeared which contained, from what Cecilia could make out, a liquid that was similar in colour and consistency to Harry's base. Around the edges of the caudron green ooze began to drip and one or two landed on the tablecloth. Snape clicked his fingers again and a clean cauldron materialised next to the first.

Cecilia took a couple of steps towards Snape, stopping mid-step as she watched in horrified fascination as the wizard tipped out some of the green liquid into it. Then Snape took a small quantity from the match potion, ladling in approximately two-thirds less than the first into the cauldron.

The orange portion began to foam as it lay on the surface of the green. Then it began to fizz a purple hue as it made contact with the base. Cecilia continued to watch, immobile as Snape stirred the potion. A minute or so later came a flash of light and the potion turned a deep blue colour.

"I have no doubt it will work with Harry's match; 3 parts of base to one of match." He smiled at Cecilia as he tipped the small volume of now-blended potion into a vial. "You are concerned about the side effects. When I have faced the enemy you will have no need to worry further."

He's made his own! Cecilia's eyes widened in frantic realisation as Snape shook the vial of potion. He was going out to face the Death Eaters again…her mind raced trough the logic…but the match potion wouldn't be exact for his base…whatever they had considered the risks to Harry to be heaven knew what the effects on Snape would be –

Cecilia's thoughts were interrupted as she watched Snape remove the lid of the vial, and throw back his head.

"I never wished for Harry to be in danger. I always intended myself to finish this task…"

"But the plan…" Cecilia began, trying to move her static legs and get herself over to Snape before it was too late. "Severus, the Order think Harry's coming…" Finally, the muscle in her right leg began to yield to her efforts of motion and she staggered in Snape's direction.

"That is what they believe," he said slowly, bowing his head back and looking at Cecilia. "You have to understand, what I've done, what I have to atone for. Harry was just the diversion in my own carefully manufactured plan – " he took a few steps away from the table, bottle still in hand and approached Cecilia, " – as were you…and what a beautiful diversion you made, Cecilia…"

Without saying anything more, Snape tipped back his head once more and raised his arm and bent his elbow.

"No!" Cecilia, watching in horror as the potion in his right hand came closer to his lips. "No! You can't…it's me…_I've_ got to go, Severus. You've got to stay…" …what do I do…she thought wildly…what _should _I do…

Snape said nothing, pausing in his imbibement of the blue liquid. Crossing over to Cecilia, he held the potion in her direction, the blue liquid glowing within.

"…as beautiful as you," he whispered, watching as Cecilia gazed at the dreadful imperfection he had created. "…if this is the end, I want you to know…" as Cecilia extended her hand to the luminescent liquid he grabbed it out of reach, placing his thumb over the end and shook it up "…I want you to know…I was wrong about muggles…"

If she could just get the potion out of his hands, then it would be okay. She could continue with her plan and Severus would be well…

Cecilia took a step forward, trying to knock it out of his hand, but he moved too quickly and she caught some strands of his lank hair in her fingers. Catching her wrist, he pushed her away, jerking back his hand and tipped back his head, the blue glow taken into his mouth.

"No!" screamed Cecilia as Snape swallowed, staggering back and dropping the vial onto the flagstone floor.

"Why?!" she yelled as Snape staggered back. "It's not proven! You've done so much…I"

But Cecilia did not have an opportunity to finish the sentence as Snape lurched forward, putting his hand over her mouth and dragging her towards him and he lowered his head to hers.

"Do or die," he whispered softly. "Listen. The Order believes that I will go to _them_ tonight." He made a stab in the direction of the Forbidden Forest where Cecilia knew the Death Eaters would be assembling now. "They will believe I have betrayed them. Like you, I cannot allow Harry to take that potion. Unlike you my motives are not unselfish. You ask me why, Cecilia…" she nodded against his icy palm. "…this is the lesser of two evils…"

Without warning, Snape let her go and began to stride towards the door. Cecilia watched him take a few steps towards the door and stop, clutching his left arm.

"Severus!" Cecilia yelled, dashing towards him but he pushed her away, holding out his right arm in her direction.

"No! Get away!" he growled, injecting the last syllable with a roar and dropping to his knees but Cecilia ignored him, trying to stop him from reaching the door. Saying nothing, she knelt before him too, looking towards his left arm before pushing up the sleeve.

The shock of what Cecilia found there was enough to make her recoil. Snape's yell of indignation bounced off her consciousness as she came face to face with the Dark Mark; not inert and still as she had seen it last time but now, as a black lesion on his arm, writhing and wriggling as if a creature was attempting to burrow into his arm.

"Get…off!" Snape yelled, pushing Cecilia's hand aside and he got to his feet, panting with effort, beads of sweat pearling on his forehead.

"No!" screamed Cecilia in protest as she too got to her feet. She dashed towards the door and made to block it.

"Mrs Frobisher, stand aside!" Snape's voice was commanding and severe. She shook her head.

"You will do what I ask," he stated, his expression becoming darker and more severe.

"No," Cecilia whispered. If I can delay him…

"You will stand aside, even if I have to use force…"

Without saying another word, Snape made a grab for the door handle with his left hand, catching Cecilia's wrist in his right and spinning her out of his way. When she got her balance, she turned and followed him through the open door.

"Severus!" she shouted, but Snape was standing just outside the doorway. Cecilia watched him reach down into empty space, pulling off an invisibility cloak from two startled teenagers.

"Potter. Weasley. Look after her. Don't let her leave." He pointed in Cecilia's direction and Harry and Ron looked at her confused as Snape ran down the teaching corridor and out into the courtyard.

"Ron!" exclaimed Cecilia, looking at him with surprise. "Harry!" She made to step past them but Harry stood in front of her. He took a few steps towards her and Cecilia took one step back until her heel caught the step of the classroom.

"Harry!" she said urgently, trying with all her effort to sound authoritative before she caught the moonlight bounce off Harry's wand. She stopped, her mouth drying up at once.

"For once Mrs Frobisher, listen to us. You are in great danger..." Cecilia shook her head.

"But it's not going to work..." she looked imploringly between Harry and Ron, who had also extracted his wand and was holding it uncertainly in her direction. "…he is putting himself in needless danger and if he does that and dies…then we may not be able to perfect your one…"

Cecilia continued to look between Ron and Harry, who had not responded to what she had said. She opened her mouth to press her point further when she caught sight out of the corner of her eye a bright stripy house elf.

"Lady?" he asked, looking earnestly at Cecilia and Harry. "Lady?" he repeated, his voice less certain now.

"Dobby," began Cecilia, looking firmly at the house elf and wishing that she didn't have to be so underhanded.

"Lady?"

"Dobby, you were right. I am in danger."

"Yes, Lady!" squeaked Dobby before Harry or Ron had a chance to interject. "Mr Harry Potter is endangering Lady," he observed, looking disapprovingly at Harry holding his wand in Cecilia's direction.

"Dobby – " began Harry but Cecilia interrupted him.

"Dobby, I will be out of danger when Miss Hermione Granger arrives. Do you think you could fetch her? She's probably in the Gryffindor common room."

"Certainly. Anything Lady wants so she is not in danger from Harry Potter!" He spat Harry's name before clicking his fingers and fading away.

"I have to say that was a bit low, Mrs Frobisher," said Harry, lowering his wand slightly.

"Yes, house elves generally are. Come on, lads," she added, looking at Harry and Ron, "I need him to finish your potion, Harry…" But her pleas fell on deaf ears as both students barred her way, saying nothing.

Cecilia stood there for what seemed like an age. Soon, she heard footsteps running towards them and Hermione appeared, looking at Ron and Harry incredulously.

"Snape told us to keep her here…" explained Ron, looking sheepish.

"And who would you rather believe?" said Hermione, impatiently. "It's no wonder Dobby told me you were in danger, Mrs Frobisher," she added, looking disparagingly at Ron and Harry. "Put those away and let me through," she added, rolling her eyes in their direction. They did, allowing Hermione to stand in the gap between themselves and Cecilia, clearly not intending her to pass.

"Harry," began Cecilia, feeling desperation begin to eat into her stomach. "Have I ever lied to you? Told you anything that would make you think I was lying?" Waiting for a reply, Cecilia felt her face begin to fall and Hermione nudged him in the ribs. He shook his head.

"Then I need your help," she continued, stepping onto the step and opening the muggle studies classroom door and pacing towards the back table. Ron, Harry and Hermione followed her in; the boys feeling particularly foolish at holding them still aloft.

"What are you going to do…" Harry asked, his question trailing off as Cecilia lifted the tablecloth up and placed her hand around Elixir No. 5.

"You have to trust me, Harry that what I am about to do is the best course of action," Cecilia said, wiping out the remainder of the contents that Snape had blended his own potion in, and measuring out three aliquots of it.

"When it is time, you need to tell Minerva…Professor Mcgonagall, Hermione," instructed Cecilia, stirring the base with the back of the ladle. "Can you do that?" Hermione nodded, ucertainly at first, and then more assertively.

"I do not know if you are aware of the plan," she continued, "but I will inform you of it anyway." Wiping the ladle on the edge of the tablecloth, Cecilia looked into the orange substance in the first cauldron, now cooled and no longer bubbling.

"When you tell her, she is to alert the Order, which is an alert for them to put their plan of attack for the Death Eaters," Cecilia looked pointedly at each of the young wizards in front of her, "and Voldermort. I intend to weaken Voldermort – " she broke off, looking at Hermione, who nodded mysteriously, "and distract them, giving the Order their chance."

Turning quickly, she ladled the match into the cauldron, stirring it with the rounded end of the ladle before watching it simmer and returning "Elixir No. 5" to the scores of other identical vials in the box under the table.

As with Snape's, the orange match began to fizz, glowing blue at its interface with the base. Harry watched in awe as the potion glowed dark blue, forgetting his urge to argue with Cecilia.

"Hermione, it is time," Cecilia continued as she poured the contents of the potion into a medium sized vial, half-filling it before corking and pocketing it.

"Are you sure, Mrs Frobisher?" she asked timidly, removing a vial of potion from her pocket. Harry and Ron watched in horrified fascination as Cecilia nodded and Hermione handed it to her.

"What is it?" asked Harry, weakly.

"Polyjuice potion," said Cecilia, evenly. "Hermione has saved your life. Did you manage to alter it as I asked?" Hermione nodded, ignoring the indignant expressions on the boys' faces.

"Hermione, you can't give her that!" protested Ron, aghast.

"It's not for her," she snapped. But Cecilia had stepped towards them, looking towards the back of the chair that stood behind her desk. She turned to Ron, placing a hand on one shoulder and kissing him lightly on the forehead.

"Thank you for caring," she said softly, before looking back at Harry. "And you, Harry…Hermione…" Cecilia held the girl's gaze for only a few seconds before stepping forthrightly towards the desk and letting the strands of hair that she had grabbed twenty minutes ago fall onto the pale surface, the strands contrasting well as she pulled one out.

Uncorking the polyjuice potion with one hand, she looked up at Hermione, saying nothing and added the hair…

…the world around her turned into an Impressionist watercolour, as the children made to stop Cecilia drinking the potion. But she was too quick for them. Discarding the vial and barely noticing it smash onto the flagstone floor she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit.

Swallowing hard, she regained her composure and Cecilia stopped her retreat from the children as her mind registered changes that were taking place in her body.

"Stand back!" she ordered as she watched the skin on the back of her hands darken. At the same time, the children seemed to have responded to her request before Cecilia realised she had actually grown by almost a foot…

…her breasts had receded and her legs became thinner and longer...

Cecilia reached up to her hair and found it was shoulder length, lank to the touch and black as night…

"Mrs Frobisher…" stammered Ron, pointing in her direction. But Cecilia said nothing, as she held her hands out in front of her…no, not her hands but those of Severus Snape; the skin on them were darker and the fingers long and bony…

…and now there was a feeling…like corrosion to the skin, a prickly, irritating sensation that she had the urge to scratch…

"How do I look?" asked Cecilia in Snape's voice, deep and resonant, loud and growling. But she didn't receive an answer for all three students had their eyes wide open in horrified fascination.

Just as she was about to instruct them to remain at the school and remind Hermione to inform Minerva, the door to the classroom opened and Fred and George rushed in.

"Managed to divert Malfoy again…" began Fred, looking at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"…like we did last time…" added George, looking at them too.

"…are you in on it…" they said together, their sentence trailing off as they followed their shocked expressions to – "

"P…professor..."

"No lads, it's me…Cecilia…" Cecilia paused. "…_Mrs Frobisher_…" Snape's voice reverberated around the classroom as she snapped her name and she gave the Weasley twins credit that they didn't flinch.

"Mrs…Mrs Frobisher…?" whispered Fred, unconvinced. George looked for conformation from the children and all three nodded in agreement.

"Listen…" began Cecilia, in low gravelly voice. "You know what the plan was, Harry." He nodded in agreement.

"But I consider the risk too great for you to take. None of you are to follow me for what I am about to do is for the best." She glanced around, waiting for one of them to argue. When none of them did, she continued. "I need you, Ron, Harry…" she looked at the two lads and saw them nod complicitly, "…to send messages to the Ministry and the Wizengamot that the Order are about to attack. Do not follow me, is that understood?" She watched as the two boys nodded.

"Hermione, go and tell Minerva…Professor McGonagall, that the plan is in action. Tell her Professor Snape sent you." Hermione nodded too and Cecilia smiled and nodded in her new skin at her students before turning towards the classroom door.

She was two steps away from the door when Harry's voice rang through the vacuous classroom.

"Why, Mrs Frobisher? To save Snape?" Cecilia turned and smiled at him.

"He has no-one else, Harry. Nor have you. If I can pull this off tonight then the nightmare just might go away for him for you both."

And with that, Cecilia slipped out of the door and into a run down the corridor, towards the open door at the far end. She touched her pocket where she knew Harry's potion resided and, on reaching the windy courtyard, catching her breath as she sought the direction of the Forbidden Forest, working her now-in-progress plan over in her mind.

…and now…now she had Harry's potion, practically perfect in every way…all she had to do was ensure that Voldermort cast the Killing Curse…

"...what is she doing!" exclaimed Ron, taking an angry step towards Hermione. "Polyjuice potion?!"

Back in the classroom the children looked between one another before resting their eyes on Hermione as Ron fired the question at her.

"She said she had it worked out," replied Hermione, looking worried, "but she was supposed to give it to Snape to turn into you...she _said_…" Hermione added defensively as she looked amongst the Weasleys and Harry.

"But – she - didn't…" retorted Ron, punctuating each word. "She took it herself and turned into Snape!" His angry advance came to a stop when Hermione's indignant face suddenly crumpled and she began to cry.

"Oh God! What have I done…?" She looked imploringly at Harry and Ron, who immediately approached her, patting her comfortingly on the shoulder and back.

"You weren't to know, Hermione," said Harry softly. "Was she Ron?" Hermione looked at him for confirmation and Ron nodded firmly.

"Bloody hell…"

At the twins' synchronised profanity, Harry, Ron and Hermione looked up and saw them looking through her latest notebook.

"What?" asked Harry, looking at the twins and Ron hurried over to his brothers, pushing his way forward.

"Bloody hell!" he agreed as his friends came to join him.

"She's catalogued every chapter…" whispered Hermione, feeling herself grow pale. "Its…" she flicked through some of the pages in the book, putting her hand on Harry's arm. "It's as if she was leaving lasting verification to all of this…to your work…" Hermione pointed to the scores of pages that Cecilia had written, in her neat biro handwriting.

"…she has no intention of returning tonight…" Hermione continued, stating the obvious to the blank-faced wizards that surrounded her. "It's a suicide mission…"

"_She's_ going to face Voldermort!" exclaimed Harry, taking a step back from the rest of them. "They had the plan worked out on paper, but she…"

"…and if he doesn't kill her then taking that potion will…and she knew it would…" Hermione let out a shrill sniff, waving her hand in front of her as if to ward off her friends. Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks.

"That that explains the mirror of Erised," she added, clamping a hand over her mouth. She looked urgently at her friends, hoping that neither of them would ask her to clarify what she meant.

"What about it?" asked Ron, looking at Harry.

"She found it…" stammered Hermione, her inner confidence at an all time low.

"…and she saw?" prompted Harry.

"Nothing!" exclaimed Hermione, letting out another sob. "It was blank!" Harry took a step forward to comfort her, as Hermione began to cry steadily on his shoulder, but Ron took a step back.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked darkly.

"You weren't speaking to me as I recall…" she whispered, drying her eyes on a handkerchief that she gratefully accepted from Fred.

"So the plan was that you were to take that potion, which was to reduce your powers to nothing except for one?" clarified George, looking at Harry for confirmation. Harry nodded, looking confused. As far as he knew only Ron knew the whole of the now-redundant plan.

"Yes, why?"

"What spell were you supposed to say?" asked Fred, quizzing Harry further as he looked up from Cecilia's lengthy essay.

"Dunno. She said she couldn't tell me, only Dumbledore could."

"Merlin's beard!" interjected Ron, giving an excellent impersonation of his Father as he glanced down the page at Cecilia's handwriting. "I know what spell it was Harry…" All five of the children crowded round the page which Ron was staring at and he pointed to the words Avada Kedavra on the page, gasping intermittently as they registered its significance.

"Well it's no wonder she didn't want you out there," said George to Harry, glancing at Fred.

"How could you let he do it, Hermione?!" exclaimed Ron, staring at his friend intensely. "You gave her that polyjuice potion and that's going to kill her!" Hermione said nothing, looking down at the floor. Before Ron could press her further he looked in Harry's direction. But his friend wasn't there. He was leafing looking through the samples that sat on the back table.

"Harry?" Ignoring a distraught Hermione, Ron crossed over to him, trying to work out what Harry was doing.

"We have the match here," he said, picking up vials at random and reading the labels. "We need to find Elixir No. 5. That's the base." Hurriedly, Harry handed Ron a selection of bottles, gesturing to his friend that he should search too.

"You're making the potion?!" Ron shook his head aghast.

"Look, she's done this for me," replied Harry calmly, "given her all for me and made it perfect. She just wouldn't tell me the spell." Next to him, Fred and George took a few more and aided Harry in his search.

"No, wait!" continued Ron, ignoring the contents of his hands and addressing Harry again. "It's Avada Kedavra! You've got to say it like you mean it!" Harry stopped looking at the labels of the potion vials and looked at his friend.

"I will mean it," replied Harry. "Come on," he added, nodding in Ron's direction.

"But also with a feeling of love…" Hermione's words floated towards the young wizards and Harry, turned, vial in hand. "That's what she says here. You have to say the words with as much hatred for Voldermort but with an equal amount of love for your parents." She looked up from paraphrasing Cecilia's writing and looked at Harry with an expression of terrified concern.

"I know," confirmed Harry, reaching down and grabbing another handful of samples. "She had me practicing that yesterday and the day before. The last thing you can say about Mrs Frobisher is that she was disorganised." He had to mean the unforgivable curse towards Voldermort because of the love for his parents….

"Bloody hell…" whispered Ron under his breath and shaking his head as he read the next vial label, glancing at Harry.

…but how on earth I will be able to be able to do that…

"Harry. Do you want to go through with this?" said Hermione, approaching her friend with an expression of concern.

"It's going to be all right," Harry replied, glancing at Ron. "We heard Snape say it was perfect and it will be. She used what she collected from Godric's Hollow, of mum. And besides, she's too much of a perfectionist, isn't she?"

Harry stopped, feeling as if he was babbling to himself and trying not to contemplate the moment that he would have to face his greatest adversary and cast the Avada Kedavra curse when the rest of his powers had been taken away from him. Harry swallowed and realised that the other four of them were staring at him silently.

"Come on," he concluded, "I'm going to need all your help. It's a three-to-one blend of base, when we find it, three of Elixir No. 5," he clarified as the twins frowned at him, "and one of the match, this potion," he added.

A frantic five minutes of searching took place until finally Fred lifted his head and looked at Harry, his arm outstretched.

"Got it. No. 5." He handed it to Harry, who uncorked the vial. "Ron, make sure that cauldron's clean. We know how to blend it, we watched Mrs Frobisher do it."

Ten seconds later and the four wizards were crowded round the potion, watching the green and orange potions bubble as they had done for Cecilia twenty minutes ago. Hermione however, had retreated to Cecilia's desk an was reading through her lengthy notes about the research, the science and magic.

"…we can go after her…" Harry and Ron turned from the simmering potion and heard Hermione mutter disjointed sentences. "…we can get her to the hospital wing…she might not have digested it all…" babbled Hermione. She looked up when she realised her friends were staring at her.

"Poppy cured her last time, didn't she?" Her eyes were glimmering with immature tears and Ron and Harry exchanged hesitant glances before nodding in agreement.

"Right," said Fred, stepping forward as a tone of uncharacteristic authority entered his voice.

"You and Ron," he said to Harry as she pointed at the potion, "when you've finished that, off you go and write those letters that Sn – Mrs Frobisher told you to write." George made her way between them both and looked analytically at the potion.

"Looks like you'll need to use an amber bottle or it'll spoil," he added knowledgeably. Ron and Harry nodded at one another; that had been Cecilia's choice of container.

"Hermione," continued Fred, looking at the troubled girl, "go and tell the McGonagall…" Hermione's face began to pale almost immediately and she got to her feet, pacing over quickly to them.

"Boys…Harry…" Hermione began, then stopped speaking before, to both Harry's and Ron's amazement, throwing her arms around Harry, kissing him on the cheek. George and Fred exchanged mirthful expressions and suppressing a pair of smirks.

"For luck," she clarified, before heading out of the classroom without looking back.

"Okay," said Harry, when Hermione had closed the door. "It's ready." He took the amber vial that Ron had handed to him, tipping his long awaited potion into it and it shone and sparkled dark blue and glowed within.

"For Queen and country!" exclaimed the twins, handing him the stopper.

"Never say die!" shouted Ron, before kicking himself inwardly at his unfortunate choice of jubilation.

"Come when you're ready, Harry," said George, glancing at Fred as they made their way past Cecilia's desk and towards the door. "We'll follow her; make sure she's all right…"

Holding the vial in his hand Harry, accompanied by Ron, followed the twins down the corridor and towards the courtyard, going their separate ways.

"…wouldn't want our favourite muggle to be in any unnecessary danger, eh George?" agreed Fred. "Mrs Frobisher may need some help…"

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A solitary student peered inside the now-deserted muggle studies classroom, replaying the conversations he had overheard in his mind again as he surveyed its contents conspiratorially.

Glancing in the direction of the four Gryfindor students he grinned unpleasantly as he contemplated Fred Weasley's parting words…

Yes, thought Draco Malfoy as he stepped inside, I believe she will…

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	23. Dangerous Liaisons

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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If a person were looking from the air above the scene that was unfolding in the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and asked to observe what was below then that person would have looked upon thus…

…within the night, black and dark, winds puffing their way intermittently around the castle and its grounds and moonlight shining through the clouds, to the observer a few things unfolding which would not ordinarily have been observed on a typical middle of a Saturday night.

Outside the grounds of the school two main groups, opposing factions were beginning to assemble, past the edgestones and out of the official jurisdiction of the headmaster of the aforementioned school.

The first, cowled in black and wearing masks, stood huddled as a group, united and jubilant, the ghoulish apparition of the dark mark above their chosen meeting point, their presence marked by a green glow of light above and the number might have been a score or so. This was the most important night for the Death Eaters, one for which they had planned for weeks to herald the glorious rebirth of their powerful master.

The second were disparate and divided, arriving to the scene at different moments, apparating outside of the perimeter of the edgestones and moving into the places they had learned by heart over the course of the last month and concealing themselves with a variety of charms and other less sophisticated means. As each of the second group arrived communicated their presence to another using via pre-designated but secret methods until the head of the group was satisfied that each member of the Order of the Phoenix were all in their agreed places.

It might have been, to the eye of the observer that the people assembled below resembled the start of a game of chess, taking their places on the field of battle ready to fulfil their as assigned roles until one or other side finally claimed victory.

To that observer we must now indicate the fly in the ointment, the spoiler of the game, the errant child who is about to steal the monopoly money and lose the top hat…

…into view through the gates of the school came a figure, running down the slope and into the open, his head illuminated in the moonlight. Once or twice the figure stumbled as it made its way towards the former of the two groups, running relatively slowly as if greatly encumbered in his flight.

And behind him, something else to point out to the observer to make them reconsider their certainty that the game in its previous guise can be rescued by using "Game of Life" money instead and the candlestick from Cluedo. For, following the first figure streamed another, the twin, perhaps, of the first that had come, not so sprightly and stopping every so often to check on the movement and position of the first…

…and behind the second…

…another pair of twins, trying to keep up…

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Cecilia could just about see the figure of Snape picked out in the moonlight probably a hundred yards ahead of her and she pushed on and on, following his trail. Behind her, the castle lay still and ahead she could just make out the line of trees towards which it appeared that Snape was heading.

The tight, sickly feeling began to rise in her stomach again and Cecilia stopped, panting and trying to make the flowing waves of nausea pass before she continued, walking unevenly with her long, ungainly legs which held her far taller than she ever imagined she would be.

Down the path that led past Hagrid's hut she hurried, up which the gamekeeper and teacher had carried Snape almost a month ago…down further and over the basalt outcrop which supported the Owlery…down further and towards the edgestones, the perimeter of the castle grounds before…

…coming into her view was a sight that she had witnessed once before, but far clearer. Then it had been like a dream, with the Death Eaters as mere actors on a stage in vulgar costumes, or so it had seemed. Now it felt real. Very real.

For before her now were thirty or so of them, followers of Voldermort, standing underneath the Dark Mark…so very close to her. And so very terrifying.

Stumbling over the corner of a large granite rock, Cecilia let herself fall, landing roughly behind it. She bit her lip to stop her from calling out and she crouched behind its smooth exterior and she felt in her pocket to check that Harry's potion was still intact. It was. And with a huge sigh of relief she cast her now perfect-visioned eyes in the direction of…

…the Death Eaters, assembled ready to enact their plan.

Where was Snape? Cecilia questioned silently, glancing round frantically to find him. He wouldn't be able defend himself here, even if the potion were to work. But if she could detain him from getting to them before she did…

From her vantage point behind the rock, Cecilia stared at the dark wizards. The masks they wore hid any trace of their identity, although from their frames and builds it was possible to determine which those were that she had seen before. Cecilia picked her way through the Death Eaters in her sight, searching frantically for Snape.

And to her horror, there he was, walking boldly through the now-mocking Death Eaters as a chicken through a skulk of foxes.

Leaning further forward over the rock, Cecilia strained to hear what one of them was saying to him and she was torn between discovery before Voldermort had arrives and gleaning important information.

To her left was another rock, a little smaller than the first…if she could just make it to that one, she would be in an even better position…

Cecilia raised her head further over the rock, hoping to make her move when a collective roar of indignation grew from the group of Death Eaters and at the mocking din she froze.

"…did you not bring her to us before now, Snape…"

The voice was cold but recognisable. It was the Death Eater that had tortured and killed another last October in almost exactly the same spot that they were in now, to which Cecilia had been an unwitting witness.

Cecilia's mind struggled to put the name to the wizard as she surveyed the rest of the Death Eaters, but she didn't have to. She watched Snape stand to his full height, staring the wizard down.

"I am answerable, as I have always been, only to the Dark Lord. It is for his pleasure only that I bring the glorious news at this magnificent hour, Lucius."

Cecilia froze again. Lucius Malfoy. Draco's father. One of the most loyal dark wizards of Voldermort…

"…have information, then…"

As Cecilia strained to hear the rest of the conversation, a gust of wind blew over the surroundings, redirecting its amplitude away from her and she could only watch now as another Death Eater stepped forward, more diminutive in stature, raising his wand to Snape.

He raised his wand…

But your powers are removed! screamed Cecilia silently. You can't retaliate! You took the potion that was meant for Harry! Your powers will have gone with the exception of one, and as your potion is different to Harry's then it probably won't be Avada Kedavra!

"…not at home, Snape…" Cecilia leaned forward again, catching snippets of conversation.

"…another…"

"…another…killed them all…"

Realising that it was useless trying to understand what they were saying Cecilia felt her knees begin to ache as she crouched behind the rock and she realised it was because she was unused to Snape's legs, which were far longer than hers. Shifting position and ignoring the dull ache that was beginning to grow in her arms and trying to forget the potent images of the Grimmauld Place kitchen and her close-to-fatal meeting with Sirius Black, Cecilia looked back at the group of Death Eaters.

But the group was not now united for, from what Cecilia could see, one of them was standing isolated from the group who looked to be uneasy, and perhaps even shaking and she wondered why this should be so on the night of Voldermort's return…

The lack of conversation in the group did not stop Cecilia from determining that this Death Eater was not popular with the rest of the group for the smaller of the Death Eaters who had turned his attention from Snape to this Death Eater, moving purposefully from the main group and holding his wand in his direction…

The two seemed to be arguing, both the small-built Death Eater and the loner. Many of the other Death Eaters had turned upon him now, and the rumble of noise began to fill the air as the wind turned again, the voices indistinct and affronted.

"…on the night like tonight we do not need to fight…"

Now a third Death Eater, as cowled and masked as any of them moved himself to the centre of the group, addressing all of them appeasingly. The group turned to him and the wizard whom Snape had addressed as Malfoy pointed his wand in his direction, stiffening visibly.

"…easy for you to declare such sentiments, Wormtail when your place next to the Dark Lord's side is assured…"

…Wormtail, thought Cecilia, shuffling round to the Death Eater that Lucius Malfoy had pointed at with his wand. Peter Pettigrew, Harry's father's other friend at school and the fourth Marauder…waiting for his master's return...

A flush of anger pricked her skin as she thought of the injustice he had caused Harry to suffer at his actions…which was replaced by the calming swell of equanimity…she would soon be in a position to end all of this…very soon…

And now, as a chill wind passed over the scene as the Death Eater's conversation diminished and Cecilia crept round to the right-hand side of the rock to gain a better view…

"The Dark Lord will be with us shortly and we will be able to storm the castle and kill the muggle-born wizards," she heard Malfoy declare. He was standing at the centre of the group now and was staring at Snape and now, from this new viewpoint Cecilia could hear everything that was being said.

"If you do not wish your muggle woman to be murdered along the way, Snape, I should fetch her for us now." Snape returned Malfoy's glare, their distrust mutual.

"I do not need to prove my loyalty to _you_, Malfoy. My word is good enough for the Dark Lord…"

At his word, the diminutive Death Eater spoke and Cecilia gasped when she realised it was the same one who had caused Snape to suffer all those weeks ago with Malfoy under the Cruciatus curse. No, her mind raced. I'll stand before you and suffer before you torture him again!

"Why was she not at her home, Snape, when you had arranged with us that she would be? Our advantage would have been secure if you had managed to do this one simple thing…"

Listening carefully, Cecilia pieced together the information that she was hearing, trying not to gasp at the realisation…he had saved her from their visit to her home…when he had come to take her urgently to Hogwarts at Christmas…

"…again, my explanation is satisfactory for the Dark Lord…are you suggesting that you are better than he that you require me to repeat it?" He addressed the female Death Eater now, whose wand was also raised in Snape's direction and in return, he held his own wand aloft again…

"Expelliarmus!" declared Snape, pointing his wand at the woman Death Eater. To her surprise, as to the others around them, the only thing that happened was a small wisp of smoke that emanated from the tip of his wand…

…and then…

Cecilia closed her eyes when they drove Snape to his knees under the Cruciatus curse. No! She could not bear it! She wanted to scream with all the effort she had in her lungs that it should be her enduring it, not him…he should not be there…suffering again for her…she began to rise using Snape's legs…she _would_ face them…

…the wind changed taking away the conversation from Cecilia. Instead of striding out to meet them as she had intended, she peered around the rock again, the potion clutched in her hand through the pocket of her robe…

…she could not help him if Voldermort wasn't there…if it wasn't he at whom she could throw this potion at the right moment…the moment he cast the Avada Kedavra curse…

Jamming Snape's large hands over his ears through his lank hair, she shrank back against the rock, feeling his heart hammer against his chest...

"It was all set up, but no matter…no matter…" Lucius Malfoy's silky voice cut smoothly through Snape's agonising screams. "I will suggest how the matter can be resolved this very night – Bella – " Malfoy turned and addressed his sister-in-law. "Enough! On a night such as this it should be screams of muggles we hear."

Ignoring Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange raised her wand again but this time Malfoy raised his, waving it in such a way that made her withdraw.

"Bella, stop it now," he added, "how will the Dark Lord ever command the loyalty of others if you do not follow instructions – " Malfoy smirked as he watched his sister-in-law flinch, taking a step back. When he saw two other Death Eaters take a step towards him however he turned to Snape, who was slumped on the ground.

…Cecilia peered round the rock again and, as a month ago, there was Snape, a hunched figure recovering from the agony of their torture…

"She is in the castle and she can tell us what we need to know." Malfoy's voice was cold and demanding, and he pointed his finger in Cecilia's direction.

…she ducked out of earshot behind the rock. That had been close…

"No," Snape muttered, his voice punctuated with pain. "She is – at her home – "

"He is lying!" Wormtail shouted, glowering at Snape. "She is in the castle. He is protecting her!"

Cecilia watched as the conversation between them lapsed into windless silence and now Malfoy was stood over Snape with what appeared to be a vial of potion. Mercilessly he pulled back Snape's head by the hair, pouring its contents into his open mouth. Cecilia gasped as he leaned forward in an attempt not to choke on the contents.

"Do you recognise it, Snape?" whispered Lucius Malfoy, in triumph, a smile playing on his lips.

"Veritaserum," growled Snape, looking at him with unalloyed detestation. Malfoy smirked horribly.

"From your own batch, you'll be delighted to know. Unfoolable. Perfect truth in a bottle." He turned to the other Death Eaters declaring, "Now we will have the truth that Snape so desperately wants to keep to himself. Beside Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew also grinned; the answers that they so badly required, whose concealment had caused their suffering, would now be evident for all to hear.

"Where is the muggle known as Cecilia Frobisher?" Pettigrew stepped forward, his porcine eyes staring at Snape.

"At the castle," he said at once.

"What plan is to be put into place this evening?" Malfoy bent his knees, lowering himself to Snape's level.

"The Order will attack once the weapon is used," Snape coughed painfully, placing a hand on the ground to steady himself.

"So!" declared Bellatrix, her eyes glowing in triumph as her eyes raked the green-tinged semi-darkness.. "The weapon is here, somewhere..."

"But it is not complete. It will fail the one that uses it," continued Snape, getting painfully to his feet.

What are they saying, thought Cecilia, as she watched the Death Eaters begin to crowd round Snape, wands raised. As Malfoy and Bellatrix raised their wands, Cecilia found herself hiding her head in her hands, unable to witness Snape's torture again.

But when the blinding white-blue light she was expecting from the Cruciatus curse did not come, Cecilia looked towards the group again. This time, Snape was on the floor, apparently punched in the stomach by one of the larger Death Eaters behind Pettigrew.

The Death Eater rounded again, kicking Snape and Cecilia gritted her teeth at the awful sickening sound. He can't fight back! she screamed silently to the world. He has no powers! And then, when she thought she could bear no more, a sickening crunch punctured the night as the air whipped towards her, which sounded like Snape's arm breaking.

Cecilia craned her head forward, trying to catch the conversation that Malfoy was having with Snape, who was slumped again on the ground. Pockets of words she could make out, and she held her breath to make sure she could catch as much as possible…

"And so," she heard Malfoy say. "…then when the Dark Lord returns he will be very happy that you have brought her to us…"

Agonisingly, Snape got to his feet.

"He will not bring her!" declared Pettigrew, stepping towards Snape. "…he comes…and you have no prize for him…the prize…the muggle…with the secrets…with the book…you should have brought her here...to tell the secrets…" Pettigrew's eyes began to glow with fury; his feared loyalty to his master causing him to turn his anxieties on Snape.

"Calm yourself, Wormtail," said Malfoy, his voice light and mocking, "he will bring her, for he knows that we will kill her when we attack the castle." He turned his head and looked scathingly at Snape. "He knows he will not get his _heart's desire_ if he does not bring her to our Lord!"

Without waiting another second, Snape recovered his balance, staggering under what he had endured, his face a mask of derision. The Death Eaters surrounding him took a step back as he cast them his look before staggering from them and across the grass.

Cecilia watched him head towards the castle, as the clouds sailed across the icy moon that hung over the castle, its light clashing violently with that of the Dark Mark. She could see that Snape was making slow progress and she made to get to her feet. This time she could help him. This time he would not suffer on her account as he had done the last time.

Inching back from the rock, Cecilia got to a crouching position, ready to go after him. As she watched him climb the rocky scarp that led up to the castle she began to plot her next course of action…

…get him to Poppy…get him well…return to the group…

In the limelight, Snape stumbled and Cecilia winced, diverting her planning.

…_yes_…she could pretend she was him and that she – Cecilia – wasn't in the castle…this should infuriate them enough to get their master…and when Voldermort arrived…

Cecilia gripped Harry's potion inside her robe again and rose to a half-crouch, ready to run after him…

A brilliant light behind her made her stop and a wind as cold as ice swept out from a point that was behind her. Around her, the trees that were in view appeared to bend outwards, their branches bowing as if reaching long spindly fingers towards the castle.

Cecilia crouched back down against the rock as the ebb of the wave rushed back towards her, the wind hitting her full in the face, flattening her against the granite rock.

When it had subsided, Cecilia inched her way around it, and looked back at the group of Death Eaters…who were no longer a group. In the clearing they stood in a circle, shoulder to shoulder, their bodies stiff as if standing to attention. The light that had radiated out from behind her appeared to have concentrated in the centre of the group, its brilliance concealing what was within.

As Cecilia watched the cold glow began to fade and the night air be pulled in the direction of the epicentre…

…the form of a man began to materialise where the glow diminished…

Cecilia watched as the alert Death Eaters, as one, fell to their knees, surrounding the man subserviently as the sickening green light of the Dark Mark crowned him above.

Realisation flooded her face and she began to peer further round the rock again, all thoughts of helping Snape now abandoned as she looked upon the form of Lord Voldermort, reborn, and more terrifying than Cecilia could ever imagine.

One of the Death Eaters got to his feet and Voldermort turned to look at him. To Cecilia his face seemed expressionless, although he appeared to be conveying some honour on the Death Eater for, as he bowed, Voldermort extended an arm, placing it on the crown of his head.

"My Lord, this is indeed an honour…" The man addressed Voldermort before turning in apparent self-satisfaction and looking at the rest, before returning to his kneeling position on the ground. Then Voldermort produced what looked in his large hands to be a small book that the man had given to him displaying it in an arc to his followers who looked at one another and nodded approvingly.

Now as Cecilia looked, the Death Eaters were rising, in ones and twos, as if the formality of their master's arrival was over and they were free to be more casual and their chattering became more of a dull roar.

From the crowd now, one of the Death Eaters approached Voldermort and appeared to whisper something to him and now, as Cecilia watched, Voldermort's expression twisted into one of obscene delight. The rest of the Death Eaters stopped their talking and looked in his direction as Voldermort spoke.

"Snape does not concern us now, Wormtail. He has already brought her…"

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And now on the field of battle, adding to that mix of figures that initially upset the setup of the game are some with rules of their own that they are ready to exact to their own advantage.

In Draco Malfoy's hand, as he swept through the arch of the school courtyard was a book. Holding it tightly lest the wind that he had felt sweep across the landscape take it from his thin bony fingers he hurried through the arch and around the corner, throwing himself against the sandstone walls of the castle's outer fortification.

Elizabeth Mitchell, he thought, glancing from side to side and checking that the coast was clear before allowing himself an indulgent smirk. Now that he thought about it, didn't that just about make absolute sense?

No squib would ever admit it to anyone, let alone Snape and, much as he looked up to his head of house, he could not believe that a wizard – the muggle – he corrected himself, would admit this to him.

Leafing through the pages he considered the irreparable damage that he had caused in the muggle studies classroom. The potions that were at the back he had thrown into the drain and the animals in cages he had let free. The notebooks that were on the desk would have made rich fuel for the classroom fire had he not spied this damning volume…

…magic and muggles…

The woman was a muggle then not a squib. Her name _was_ Cecilia Frobisher, and not Elizabeth Mitchell. As he leafed through the book again his chest began to fill with outraged indignation.

_He_ had been the cause of sending his father false information, resulting in a brief and disparaging letter written in the third person and how he hoped Draco would never meet his "incompetent son".

Disregarding his father's stinging and bitter words, Draco took furtive glances to his left and right again before hurrying across the grounds of Hogwarts. His pace began to quicken as he rewrote in his mind his father's letter, now full of praise in light of the news that he was about to impart.

Nervous excitement began to occupy his thoughts too, for at last he would be meet the Dark Lord, Lord Voldermort, from whom his father had forbidden Draco to attend, according to his mother's wishes.

Images of himself walking into Voldermort's inner circle with the news filled Draco's mind and he clutched "Magic and Muggles " ever closer as he hurried quicker towards the Owlery.

The Dark Lord, in Draco's mind, would honour Lucius Malfoy's son as he brought him vital news on the day of his triumphant return to power. His father would be honoured in his stead and he former errors forgotten.

The light from the Forbidden Forest cascaded over the landscape half a mile away and Draco fixed his mind on the goal…crossing to the perimeter of the school grounds, tripping every so often over the uneven earth towards the green glow of the dark mark…filling his mind with imagined exaltation…hurrying impatiently to where he knew his father would now be waiting…

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Cecilia pressed her back against the cold granite rock and held her breath. Voldermort, the most powerful dark wizard, reborn and terrible was not just talking to her…he was addressing her…

His voice cut through the night as lemon juice through grease, splitting it with acidic coarseness and an unbidden chill passed through her – Snape's – body.

"Mrs Frobisher, we know you're there…I can hear your mind…I can hear your thoughts…"

Cecilia gazed up at the moon, it's light illuminating Snape's face as if she were in the spotlight…she could imagine the scene behind her; the Death Eaters upon whom she had been spying staring at her, their hands gripping wands…

"Mrs Frobisher…" Voldermort was addressing the environment at large now, casting his gaze hither and thither, "…you believe Severus Snape is your defender…and yet you are here, within…" he paused, his head shifting around as if other senses than the usual five were attuning themselves, "…a hundred feet of us…"

At his words, the Death Eaters who were clumped together in twos and threes, began to survey the grounds, wands aloft as if intending to search within this radius and curse anything that moved. Voldermort however held up his hands, looking at them as if they were children.

"No…my dearest colleagues…" he glanced amongst them as if they were errant sheep in his fold, "patience, she will be ours in due course…" Glancing up from the Death Eaters, Voldermort began to look round, addressing the environment again.

"It is so unfair Severus," he declared to the now-absent Snape, "that you have been keeping her to your self…I do wonder whether, after tonight, she was worth it…" Jerking his head to another part of the clearing, he continued to speak again.

"…and Dumbledore…how myopic of you, blind to the stupidity of the muggle race…investing time and effort into a weapon that will not actually work…"

Cecilia sank lower before her lunar spotlight, into a hunched ball, holding her hands before her ears again as Voldermort's mocking laughter reverberated around the night. As it trailed off, a good few minutes later she wondered whether the imploding silence that remained wasn't more frightening.

"And now Dumbledore," continued Voldermort, shouting around him as the Death Eaters boweed their heads in deference, "you must watch as she brings you all down with her…"

"Come out and cast your muggle spells come out, Cecilia Jane Wells" Cecilia's mind was jerked into action at the use of her name and she interlocked her fingers tightly…

"I know all about you…and your husband…it is best, don't you find, to keep your enemies close to hand…?"

This time, Cecilia was sure that his voice was entering her head without the tedium of being turned into sound and passing through her ears and she felt her body stiffen as an icy cold shock, like a surprise after-wave, penetrated her body.

…close down your mind, she told herself…disregard your feelings…your ideas…let them go…go…

"Where is she my Lord, let me bring her to you!" Wormtail bobbed excitedly around Voldermort, like a dog eager to prove its loyalty to its master. "I will make her tell you what you need to know," he added lasciviously. Many other of the Death Eaters, awoken from Voldermort's hypnotic speech by Pettigrew's voice, looked at him with loathing.

"…she is…not here…I cannot sense her any more…" Voldermort looked around at his followers and broke into what could only be described as a smile. "We have a busy night ahead of us, however and this muggle will see to us that the true meaning of muggle baiting is not forgotten."

The Death Eaters exchanged contented smiles. At last, their master was to reveal to them the exact nature of his plan, and their role in it. That muggles were to die was news that many of them relished.

"But before I reveal my plan," he continued, glancing around into the distance again, "can we not entice you, muggle, to show yourself? Even now you may find that Lord Voldermort may spare your life in exchange for information…"

…Cecilia looked at the castle now where, with her conscious separated from her mind, she could just about make out a figure being helped to his feet by two others…

"…for you cannot even hope to win this battle…your only salvation Cecilia Frobisher, is that I, as a merciful Lord…hear your pleas for mercy…"

Breaking off his address to the distance, Voldermort suddenly returned his attention back to his Death Eaters who were staring at him expectantly.

"My loyal Death Eaters," Voldermort continued, his tone changing to commanding affection, "my faithful followers. You have waited in the shadows, carrying out my duty as I instructed. You have suffered – " he glanced at Bellatrix, who dropped her head " – you have been insulted –" he glanced to Nott, " – you have had to masquerade as muggle lovers…"

"Tonight you will have your revenge for every insult that has been inflicted on the name of wizard! Tonight every person in this land will know the name of Lord Voldermort!"

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"Mrs Frobisher!" Fred looked at George urgently as Snape staggered past the edgestones, and slumped on the ground in front of them. His hair was matted with mud and blood, and he was lying to his left, his right arm held limply.

"Get…" snarled Snape, his voice broken and he slumped further forward still.

Exchanging looks, George motioned to his brother to grab Snape's legs while he lay Snape back into his arms, holding him underneath the armpits.

"It's going to be all right, Mrs Frobisher," began George, looking pitifully at Snape's face.

"You were so brave out there," continued Fred, lifting Snape up the knees as George lifted his torso, "I can't believe you faced thirty Death Eaters on your own…"

"…and suffered the torture curse!" exclaimed George, looking over Snape's now-unconscious body.

"She's stopped breathing, George!" exclaimed Fred urgently. "What are we going to do?"

"We've got to get her to Madam Pomfrey," declared George, beginning to walk Snape towards the archway that led to the courtyard. "There's nothing we can do with her, she's so fragile," he added, looking at Snape's large frame.

"Yeah," agreed Fred, puffing under the weight of Snape's body.

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"...yet there is one amongst us who has not shown us the true way. My return would have been hastened at Christmastime if it hadn't been for the one amongst us who is the true traitor…"

Like a shoal of fish parting from danger, the Death Eaters broke apart, leaving Oswald T. Avery junior standing before Lord Voldermort. Intelligent like his father, though deeply cowardly, he demonstrated this latter quality by falling onto his knees.

"Yes, it is you, Avery, with whom I am most displeased." He held aloft the book that the first Death Eater had handed to him. "This is the lock for which the key…the information you swore to retrieve of your father's…is intended. You – have – failed – …"

The lone Death Eater fell to his knees before lying prostrate in front of his master.

"This is just one of the three so-called Unforgivable curses, Mrs Frobisher," continued Voldermort above Avery's screams. Her back to the granite, still staring ahead, Cecilia's consciousness couldn't help but be stirred into action by the terrible moaning and screaming that this Death Eater was making as he suffered under the Cruciatus curse.

Ignoring her waning willpower, Cecilia turned and peered around the rock again at the scene that she had witnessed almost half an hour ago where Snape had been.

"Do you know who this is, Mrs Frobisher?" continued Voldermort, addressing her indirectly again, "This is the son of the man who fed me information about the last Reciprocator. This is Oswald T. Avery's son. You know him, Mrs Frobisher, don't you?"

Avery's screams began to subside as the blue-white lightning faded. She saw Voldermort lower his wand, only to raise it again.

"Another, very useful in its way, the Imperius curse. I can have Avery do whatever I want…"

Before the crowd of Death Eaters, Avery stood like a badly-strung marionette, his back hunched and his shoulders drooped. Without warning, his arms began to flail, and he began to dance rapidly on the spot.

Another flick of his wand caused Avery to approach another Death Eater and beg him for information, clearly amusing the other Death Eaters immensely.

Once Avery had performed another jig, Voldermort lowered his wand and Avery slumped to the ground again, panting.

…and now the third…the killing curse…

…her mind was open now…like the front door of a mansion before stealthy thieves…Cecilia couldn't stop it whirring into action from its absent stupor.

Wrenching herself back to the icy surface of the rock, she put her head in her hands trying to re-encase the images that she had seen in Tonks's photographs and an inner conflict began as part of her fought her instinct to protest at the murder of the Death Eater Avery.

88888888

"Where is he?" asked Arthur Weasley impatiently. He turned to Kinglsey Shacklebolt, who was in a group near the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest and rubbed his hands together as a chill passed by them. Kingsley gave his hands a quick glance as multicoloured sparks were generated before looking at him kindly.

"Where's Molly this evening, Arthur?" he asked conversationally and Mr Weasley smiled at his colleague weakly.

"At headquarters," he replied, "I wanted her to be as safe possible. Not that the Burrow's not safe enough but – " he paused, the view of Avery being tortured by Voldermort catching his eye now. He winced.

"She is needed for morale, of course," added Kingsley, wisely. "When we get through this, those of us that survive will be in urgent need of tea." He nodded understandingly in Mr Weasley's direction and Arthur nodded slowly.

"Everything seems to be on track so far," continued Arthur, watching Avery perform a good impression of a puppet. "I just wish I could hear what they were saying…" Arthur shifted from foot to foot anxiously.

"I think the occlumency charm that Dumbledore put on us all would be broken if we get too near, Arthur," he said, watching Arthur, like a coiled spring next to him, clearly concerned about that evening's impending operation. "Not until the signal, when Snape returns," he added pointedly.

"Yes, you're right," replied Arthur, sighing deeply, not taking his eyes off the scene before them. "Well he's gone, but he should be back by now..."

Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded, joining him in looking where Tonks, from the group ten yards away, was pointing…

88888888

Cecilia watched as the man appeared from the coiling smoke from Voldermort's wand. The man, perhaps in his early thirties had a trickle of blood down the side of his face. He stood, facing Voldermort before turning to face the Death Eaters, his face a picture of terrified concern.

She knew that face…she recognised him. He was the man from the picture….from Tonks's picture…

Suddenly, one of the wizards pulls out wand, and the man's face contorted into confusion as one of the Death Eaters, the one who had stood behind the diminutive Death Eater and had broken Snape's arm, stepped forward, wand aloft.

…but this couldn't be happening…the man…he'd died in August…_they'd killed his daughter too_…

The Death Eater extended his arm and the man began to levitate, a clear two feet off the ground. From his face, Cecilia could tell panic was beginning to arise in him.

She turned quickly, forcing her back against the rock again. As she did so, she heard the Death Eater begin to laugh and she looked ahead into the distance, at Hogwarts castle.

As quickly as he had leviated the poor man, Cecilia heard the Death Eater utter two words and a flash of green light exploded behind her.

It isn't real, she told herself sharply, remaining rigid by the rock. Then her mind began an inner battle between morality and common sense.

…how can you sit there…

The man is already dead! They can't kill him again!

…but it seems real…

Interrupting her thoughts rudely Voldermort's voice rang out cold and icy.

"George Hudson would like to thank Cecilia Frobisher for her assistance tonight!" A woman's triumphant laugh pierced the night. "His daughter would like to ask you why you did not save her father when you knew you could…"

…switch off the thoughts, Cecilia told herself, staring ahead.

"…and now, for your entertainment…Severus Snape…" Cecilia whipped her head back round in surprise, scanning the group for a sign, any sign of Snape having returned.

"Ah, Mrs Frobisher, you are back with us," declared Voldermort to the open trees. Around him still stood the Death Eaters, again arranged in a circle around their Lord, listening to him.

"So cowardly, to close one's mind to reality. So like your species. Unable to watch a simple execution, dear me…" he shook his head in mock-disappointment and, above the tenseness in her stomach the overtones of bitter hatred. She was scared. But not of what she was about to do. When the time was right…

"When I am returned to my exalted station then every muggle in our path on will suffer this fate." Cecilia saw him look round at the faces of his followers again. "Muggles, muggle-borns, squibs. All will die as we purify our race. Do you wish to see our latest…muggle exterminations?" He addressed the Death Eaters before him and they nodded in eager anticipation.

"And I am sure Cecilia Frobisher would also like the pleasure." This time, the words appeared in her mind again.

…stay focused…watch the proceedings…

"Mrs Frobisher…we know you are there…"

And Cecilia could feel her mind lurch, as if it was being prodded…Voldermort, she guessed, thinking her thoughts…

…do not think…keep your mind clear… Cecilia continued to watch Voldermort as he extended his wand as if it was an orchestral baton.

Then before her eyes she witnessed the following acts of murder:

…Libby, her best friend, murdered by the Avada Kedavra curse by a slight, middle-aged witch with wild eyes…

Derek, Libby's husband, tortured by a burly wizard with the Cruciatus curse before meeting the same end as Libby by the same means…

…Tim, her beloved Tim, losing his footing as he scaled Scafell Pike, almost at the top…the scene panning out to show a rodentine-featured wizard causing a rock to disappear right under his foot…

Cecilia watched numbly from her vantage point as all three deaths grew and faded before her eyes. Her mind still empty, she forced the words into her mind that these were fake images, lies to try to lure her out.

Then she added another few words. "It isn't going to work."

From the noise on the ground Cecilia realised the Death Eaters were now talking amongst themselves and, from her trance-like state she shook her head, scanning the scene again.

Where are the Order, she thought to herself wildly. Why haven't they gone yet?

"I really hope that you enjoyed the show, Mrs Frobisher. It's a pity ones so close have to suffer. And now," Voldermort, his wand still raised, addressed the environs again, "we save the most lucrative muggle killing for last. Really, Dumbledore, this young female muggle did not need to die…"

In the centre of the circle of Death Eaters again Voldermort flicked his wand and before him two figures appeared. This time, they faced one another and as the mist faded Cecilia could just make out that one was female.

The Death Eaters fell silent as the wizard who stood opposite the woman took a step towards her, arm raised in angry gesticulation…

Unlike the supposed deaths of her friends and family, there was dialogue between these two people which echoed around the clearing…

…Sirius Black's furious remonstrations caused Henrietta to take a step back and she crouched a little as if she thought he was going to hit her. Then Henrietta put her hands on her hips and shouted at him back, telling him that he was as bad as his family…

As Henrietta began to walk away, Sirius called after her that she was...misborn…

…behind the rock, Cecilia recoiled as the events of Christmas fleeted through her mind. But it wasn't true. How could it be true?

Forcing herself to look again, she saw Sirius, in different clothing, standing over the kneeling form of Henrietta. Raising his wand, he speaks the killing curse and within a split second, Henrietta was slumped, lifeless.

The scene faded and Cecilia continued to stare at the vacant space before Voldermort's wand.

…it sounded so real…but it couldn't be…Sirius hadn't killed Henrietta…

…how did she know? How does she know that Sirius wasn't a reformed Death Eater like Snape…?

…but she had seen his arms, hadn't she? There was no Dark Mark upon them…

Why aren't the Order here? The down-to-earth part of Cecilia's mind whirred into action now. What is the signal that they need...?

"She is no longer here," said Voldermort, addressing the Death Eaters. "The images of us exterminating her kind would have had her sobbing for mercy."

…they weren't real, she told herself sharply. These things are designed to lure her out.

"Then perhaps we are wasting our time, My Lord." Malfoy stepped forward, gesturing towards the book in Voldermort's hands. "Mysterious Mythology will remain rather mysterious if we no longer have the muggle to interpret it for us."

"Silence!" Voldermort's order drove Lucius Malfoy back to his place in the circle. "Avery may still yet be of some use to us, however I still seek the interpretation…"

…Mysterious Mythology, thought Cecilia, aghast. Surely not her copy! That would mean Freya too!

Shrinking back against the rock again, Cecilia screwed up her eyes in frustration. She could not tell now what was real, and what was not. Working logically was flawed for if she trusted that Sirius Black killed Henrietta, she also had to trust that her husband's death was no mere accident and the entire of her friend's family were dead…

…whereas on the other hand…

…that's the point, she told herself, closing her hand around the bottle of potion…none of it is real…none of it is supposed to make sense…except for what she had in her hand.

That was real. That made sense.

They may or may not have done this to and if she did not now declare this over really would they would do this to others…to people like her…people like Libby and Derek…

From behind the rock Snape's legs stood her tall. Her stomach was as if she had eaten whole ice cubes as she was illuminated by the light of the moon, like a spotlight behind her and she looked upon the greatest assembly of dark wizards that had probably ever assembled.

Slowly Cecilia walked towards them, her heart now, down the rocky bank slowly, with her head held high. Never had she felt so scared and as she walked amongst the Death Eaters her mind drifted to the length of time she had left in Snape's form from the polyjuice potion which Hermione had made.

"Severus…back so soon…" whispered one Death Eater mockingly.

Cecilia thought as veiled faces shielded with bone masks and bodies covered with hooded robes stepped aside so that she could pass in the direction of Voldermort.

"No muggle, I see?" added another.

As they swept past her Cecilia wondered why she didn't feel half as scared as she should be. But then, she thought as they stepped back, with so concentrated a recipe that she had instructed her to use, this would probably kill her before any spell would.

Clutching the potion inside her fist now, the last of the Death Eaters stood aside as she made her way to the centre of them. Her aim would have to be true, she told herself and just at the right moment…

Cecilia lifted her gaze as Voldermort, his features glowing luridly under the green glow above him, addressed her, his voice like ice, rubbing at her bones as if she was standing in the arctic blizzard…

"Ah, Mrs Frobisher. We meet at last."

88888888

"What the hell is he doing," said Kingsley Shacklebolt to Tonks, who had crossed to from her group at Mr Weasley's behest. "Was that Sirius we just saw down there?"

"Looked a lot like him," muttered Arthur Weasley, staring at the Death Eaters and at Voldermort, who had opened his mouth to speak to them again.

"Sirius and a girl?" pressed Kingsley, insisting an answer from Tonks. She shook her purple head in disagreement. "He's in position, just like the rest of us," she added, looking curiously at Arthur Weasley. "What was it you wanted, Arthur?"

"He wanted to check the children were all right," said Sturgis, the third member of the group. "Are they?" he added. Tonks nodded.

"Minerva sent down an Owl. Nothing untoward seems to have taken place at the castle; the students ushered back to their dormitories…" she looked at Arthur as she spoke and he nodded absently.

"Come on, Snape," he whispered, almost to himself. Tonks looked at Kingsley, who mouthed the word, "worried" to her. She nodded in understanding.

"When are we changing positions?" asked Tonks, addressing Sturgis. "Got to be some time soon, hasn't it?"

"Fifteen minutes," he confirmed, nodding at Kingsley, who also nodded.

"What are they playing at?" Arthur added, and the three wizards looked at him…and then past him…

"What's _Snape_ playing at?" exclaimed Tonks, pointing towards the Death Eaters who were parting like a wave, allowing the form of Severus Snape to pass between them.

The four wizards watched in fascination as Snape stood before Voldermort, looking at the wizard wordlessly.

"He was supposed to give the signal by now…" fretted Arthur Weasley, wringing his hands in anxiety. "Why is he just standing there?" He turned questioningly to Kingsley, who shook his head.

"What is the signal?" whispered Tonks to Sturgis Podmore. The aged wizard scratched his balding head, giving Tonks a worried look.

"We'll know when he gives it," he whispered back, "that was Dumbledore's final word on the subject…"

88888888

"Voldermort," intoned Cecilia in Snape's voice. She stood before the wizard, her heart beating slower and more intensely in her chest as Snape's dark eyes met the dark red coals that were his eyes.

"Indeed we do. And I would like to say that it is a pleasure meeting so famous a wizard as you; I have heard so much about you."

Around her, the murmuring of the Death Eaters, clearly shocked that their Lord was speaking in such a manner to Snape who, some were realising, was in fact _not_ Snape…

"And yourself," replied Voldermort, his voice not unpleasant as he scanned her up and down. "Severus speaks highly of you, I must say…and you've come in disguise too…such bravery – " he glanced around at his followers, indicating to them his mockery.

"…such foolishness…"

Cecilia stared back at Voldermort. I am foolish, she agreed. And in disguise.

Gripping the potion tighter in her hand, she tilted her chin higher and holding her head aloft, ignoring the glares from the surrounded Death Eaters she nodded.

"This is stupid, negotiating with a muggle!" One of the Death Eaters, the one of diminutive stature who had tortured Snape earlier that evening, stepped forward and addressed Voldermort. "She is nothing! Do away with her, my Lord!"

Looking away from Cecilia, Voldermort shot Bellatrix Lestrange a warning glance and she lowered her wand that she had held up in Cecilia's direction.

"Silence Bella, she prefers to play it this way," he looked back at Cecilia, who was still staring fixedly at him, "she likes to be treated like an equal, so I hear."

A murmur began to rise amongst the Death Eaters and Voldermort looked at them, holding his arms out to signify he wanted silence. In one hand held aloft the book that he had been given by the glorified Death Eater; the same one he had thrust in the face of Avery.

Cecilia said nothing, but transferred her gaze from Voldermort to the green cover. In the green light she could just make out the words on the cover, which did indeed read, "Mysterious Mythology"…

…it's an act, nothing more. Freya has the book safe…she is safe…

"You recognise the book." It wasn't a question; Cecilia held her breath refusing to acknowledge the question.

"The book!" he demanded frostily, thrusting it open in front of her. Cecilia scanned the page before her….

…it was the book. It was _the_ book. The words "energy light magic" bordered the title page of "Mysterious Mythology" and in the corner was the ink dot that Cecilia had got herself so worked up when she had caught her quill pen on it a week after joining Dumbledore.

...but Freya had it, didn't she…?

…where were the Order…?

She stared back at the page, knowing that her growing panic would show on her face. Voldermort stared at Snape's head, snorting scornfully in her direction.

"We discovered the identity of the bookkeeper fifty years ago, the secrets kept by every Reciprocator written into the text, but by the time Avery senior had organised the Goblin Riots it was too late." Cecilia looked from the book back to Voldermort, watching him lick his lips as he considered her predatorily. "Fenrir Greyback was able, at least, to give John Lupin's son something to remember him by…"

Cecilia stopped…Fenrir Greyback…where had she heard the name before?

"The werewolf…" Voldermort gestured in the direction of the Death Eater who had handed him the book when he first materialised before the Death Eaters. "Didn't you know, muggle? Persuasive nature, werewolves."

In horror, Cecilia turned round to where Voldermort was gesturing and her mouth began to open as the Death Eater bowed flamboyantly.

Werewolf? Cecilia thought hurriedly…hadn't Snape told her they didn't exist?

…don't think, she told herself again. They are plundering your mind for weapons to use against you…

As she turned to face the ice gaze of Voldermort again her fight to eradicate her thoughts was overpowered by the muttering of thirty very powerful dark wizards. She turned back and stared bolder at Voldermort, the potion gripped tighter in her hand. The trick was to make him angry, enough that he would kill her.

"Who amongst us recalls the merry dance that poor old Severus Snape was led with that girl whose death we had the pleasure to witness a few moments ago?" The Death Eaters chattered amongst themselves the muttering low, until one of them shouted above the others.

"Yes, in school!" Peter Pettigrew had moved further towards the group, looking at Cecilia with bulging eyes.

"Ah Wormtail," said Voldermort, holding out his arm as if to introduce Cecilia to Pettigrew. The man took a step towards her, looking Snape's body up and down. "Perhaps you could continue with the explanation?" he suggested, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Certainly, my Lord," continued Pettigrew and Cecilia returned his unmoving stare with one of her own. "Sirius Black used to go out with Henrietta Edwards, although she had a soft spot for y– Snape. She felt sorry for him – "

"Ah yes," lamented Voldermort, "the curse of the muggle. Sympathy." Pettigrew flashed his eyes to his master before gazing at Cecilia.

"Yes, yes! And y– Snape took it for affection – " at the word, Pettigrew's eyes became wilder with excitement and some of the Death Eaters behind her sniggered. "But then he found out she was a muggle born, and told the Dark Followers and arranged to bring her to the Shrieking Shack, where we intended for her to be his initiation…"

A shadow fell across Cecilia's face. From what she recalled from Minerva's memory Snape had told Dumbledore he was about to propose to her. She felt her body grow colder as she compared Henrietta's situation to her own.

"Miss Edwards's death was delayed by nine years, but no matter. It came." Voldermort fixed his eyes deliberately on Cecilia. "Yours, however is delayed by a mere nine weeks, for once you have given us the information you shall die!"

Before Cecilia had a chance to move her hand to her pocket a voice, like a silk ribbon, rustled by her shoulder.

"Silly girl," it said and immediately Cecilia recognised the voice, "…_don't_ – think about running…"

Cecilia gasped as Lucius Malfoy was standing right by her, and grabbed her arms, and she staggered back. He leaned forward so his mouth was very close to her ear, "…the things he had in mind for the both of you, oh yes indeed…"

Instinctively, Cecilia began to struggle and Malfoy gripped her arms tighter, swinging her around by the shoulder so that she faced his mask. Gritting her teeth, Cecilia stepped forward heavily onto his foot and he yelled, throwing her onto the ground roughly and raising his wand.

But it's Voldermort who needs to curse me, Cecilia's brain screamed at her. Nothing else matters…

"Lucius, my faithful friend," Voldermort looked across at Malfoy, shaking his head disapprovingly as his voice became a sing-song lilt. "Is this how we treat our guests? It won't do at all. Help our guest to her feet, Lucius. She may feel more – " Voldermort looked directly at Cecilia now, " – obliging."

Roughly, Malfoy gripped her arms and pulled her hastily up. Around them Cecilia realised that the Death Eaters had become more compact, standing in an arc around her and Voldermort.

"Mrs Frobisher, tell us what this means!" Voldermort thrust the book in front of Cecilia's face and she scanned the first page of it. The group was silent now, watching with bated breath as Cecilia looked up from the book and then shook her head.

"This will help loosen her tongue, my Lord!" declared Lucius Malfoy and he bunched up Snape's hair, pushing her onto her knees. Still gripping her hair Cecilia screwed up her eyes as Malfoy pulled back Snape's head.

In the moonlight Cecilia could just make out the word "Veritaserum" on the bottle and realised that it had been the same one that Malfoy had force-fed to Snape almost and hour ago. Cecilia clenched her teeth shut, childishly. If they were about to pry information from her she was not going to give in lightly.

"Open wide, Mrs Frobisher," encouraged Lucius Malfoy, mockingly as he tilted back her head with Snape's hair as he had done with Snape himself. The clear liquid tasted of nothing, but the angle of her head made her cough and choke…

…as the liquid flowed down her oesophagus and into her stomach, something akin to a light switch flicked on in Cecilia's head and she felt the cares of the last two months slip away out of her mind…

Coughing again, she looked around as Voldermort fixed his hot coal-like eyes on her. But the questions did not emanate from him but from Malfoy who, it appeared to Cecilia in her more focused state of mind, had his own agenda. Shaking her to her feet, Malfoy stood in front of Cecilia bearing a look of triumph.

"So…answer me, muggle. My son told me you were interested in potions and he has been feeding information to us about the squib in the school. How was it that you were able to convince him that you were a squib? Answer me!" he declared.

"I did not tell him," said Cecilia flatly. Malfoy stepped back, crestfallen. Behind him, the Death Eater whom Cecilia had heard Voldermort address as Bella stepped forward, like a miniature rottweiler, snarling behind her mask. But her wrath did not fall on Cecilia. Instead she turned and spoke to Malfoy.

"I told you he had no staying power! That's the young these days, I warned you not to trust Draco, Lucius! That is my sister's influence. He's soft…" She turned from Malfoy sharply and glared at Cecilia through her mask. "And you want to educate them, I don't know how you can!"

"Actually," replied Cecilia pedagogically, looking Lucius Malfoy, "he is very intelligent young man; it's just a shame he can't use it for something productive – " She broke off as Malfoy glowered at her.

"Draco just isn't living up to his potential in blood," Bellatrix Lestrange continued. "There's no loyalty with the young," she glanced accusingly at other Death Eaters who, to Cecilia's surprise, shied away at her stare. "The young have lost interest now! At their age we were ready to fight for the family, for power! We would have done it for the glory!"

A few of the others appeared to echo Bellatrix's words and nodded in agreement.

"Enough Bella," declared Voldermort and he turned from the deference of his most faithful follower to Cecilia, his voice changing from instruction to unveiled menace. "There's no escape, Mrs Frobisher, not for you nor for Dumbledore's Order who are going to find us very powerful indeed." His tone of voice changed to mocking concern. "You do not have the weapon and would not use it if you had, so it you will tell us what we need to know."

"On the contrary, Voldermort," Cecilia shot back, her mind urging her on, knowing she would be compelled to answer truthfully, as she had done when Sirius Black had given Veritaserum to her and she reached into her pocket for the potion.

"On the contrary," she repeated, feeling her mind cloud with uncertainty, "the weapon is very close at hand and in perfect working order…I only need to give the signal – "

"No!" Bellatrix Lestrange screamed and began to make her way fearlessly towards Cecilia. Voldermort raised an arm in her direction and she stopped in mid-step, as if petrified.

"No, Bella. Perhaps it is time we are a little more persuasive in our request." Raising his arms outwards, his wand aloft, looked at Cecilia, who was still on her knees. "Our guest should, I feel, have a taste of what will happen to the muggle born children in the castle. Perhaps then she will be better informed to make her decision."

Swiftly he motioned towards Lucius Malfoy, who raised his wand.

"Curor in potentia!"

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"Your father would be so proud."

A couple of hundred yards away from the Death Eaters, Ron Weasley placed a worn and scruffy trainer-shod foot on Draco Malfoy's chest, taking care to press down hard.

"He was a governor, wasn't he Malfoy? He'll approve of you destroying classrooms and stealing!" From Draco's firm grasp Ron wrestled the copy of "Magic and Muggles" and held it up. The silver letters shone in the moonlight, and Ron grinned at him, pressing his foot down harder on his chest as the Slytherin student and potential junior Death Eater struggled to get free.

"I'm warning you, Weasley," he growled, though not quite as menacingly as Ron had heard before, "I'll – " he stopped as Ron gave him a grin, stowing away Cecilia's book inside his robe.

"You'll what? Call for Crabbe and Goyle? Well I don't think they'll hear you somehow from this distance seeing as Flint was taking them back to your common room. Listen – " added Ron dramatically. Malfoy wriggled under Ron's foot again and Ron pressed down harder again as he tilted his head in the direction of the Death Eaters. He turned back to Draco and grinned mockingly.

"Did you hear that, Malfoy? A muggle just called you intelligent!" He laughed at Draco's discomfort. "And there you are, stealing her things," he added, shaking the book at him. To his surprise, Draco turned his head away from Ron.

"My f…f…" he began. "S…snape…" he stuttered.

"Yes, yes, we know your father is a foul wizard too – " began Ron. He broke off quickly however when he heard what sounded like someone calling his name.

Under his foot, Malfoy struggled to get away and he got to his feet triumphantly. Ron turned quickly and balled up his fist before Draco had a chance to say anything, and threw it in his direction, knocking him out.

"Ron! I can't believe you've just done that!" Behind him Hermione stood, her hands to her mouth in shock.

"It was clearly self defence," replied Ron, folding his arms proudly. "He would have got me otherwise."

But although Hermione nodded in apparent agreement, it was an absent gesture and Ron turned to look where she was now pointing, at the scene ahead…

88888888

Hanging her head Cecilia could clearly see Malfoy raising his wand. Did she have enough time, she wondered? It would cause some damage, at least…

…perhaps if she just raised her arm…maybe this was the signal they needed…

Cecilia reached into her pocket as the torture curse hit her in the chest. She screamed in agony as the blue-white lightning seemed to crawl over Snape's body like an electrified tarantula.

…pain like nothing she had ever felt before seemed to be crushing every inch of her body…at the same time the blood flowing through her capillaries felt as if it had been set alight, scorching every cell its path…simultaneously the joints in the body felt as if it is being ripped apart with some great force pulling agonisingly at her tendons and sinews…

…she did not know how long Malfoy had cursed her…it could have been a few seconds or a few days…biting her lip she willed herself not to share her pain with those around her…

…but it didn't matter…around her laughter and even applause told Cecilia that they had clearly enjoyed the spectacle…

"Enough," she heard Voldermort's cold tone address Lucius Malfoy. "Now the muggle understands the power of wizards. She will come to the correct decision in due course."

Cecilia barely registered the lack of curse penetrating her body and she lay on the floor, cold perspiration bespangling her brow as she panted painfully, every breath as painful as the last…

…around her the disparaging remarks, those she had been witness to and overheard, those dismissing muggles as parasites and inferior. And in the back of her mind Cecilia's consciousness compelled her to speak, to tell them what they wanted to know. For what they wanted to know was counterintuitive to their inner beliefs…

…and with supreme effort Cecilia Frobisher forced herself onto her knees, still panting and dripping in sweat. The Death Eaters fell silent as she made Snape's body stand to its full height.

"I will tell you – everything, Voldermort – " she began, looking into his gaunt, grey face. "Starting with – "

With more concerted effort Cecilia turned to face Malfoy. "Your family motto. It was supposed to mean power in the blood, not power upon bloodshed not like you believe." A glimmer of satisfaction built on Cecilia's confidence and she drew Snape's lips into a twisted smile. "Your ancestor Joseph Black changed it. But he couldn't alter the true meaning – "

"You lie!" screamed Bellatrix, flying in Cecilia's direction. "You lie, this is not the interpretation!" In protest, she tore her Death mask from her face and Cecilia was met with a face that she recognised, like the woman she had seen in the picture in Draco Malfoy's room, her face thin and her features twisted. A dozen years ago she would have been beautiful but now…now her eyes were so hollow…

"She cannot lie," whispered Malfoy, "she has taken Snape's own Veritaserum…"

Staggering to plant her feet more firmly onto the ground Cecilia reached into her pocket and held the potion tightly in her hand again.

"There is a man buried in a church in London by the name of James Watt. The inscription on his tomb is there for all to see – " she smiled inwardly at the growing confusion she was now beginning to instil in some of them. "…power…that he gave power to the people…power! To us! Muggles! And Joseph Black hated him for it!"

Now she was addressing the Death Eaters, as if educating a group of school children, as if lecturing to adults. All were silent, still. All were wordless. She had them under _her_ spell, for they believed in their own magic and they trusted her words.

Just then, Voldermort's voice broke the spell, his voice as icy and cold as she remembered it when she was hiding behind the rock.

"And it is through this power that muggles have ruined the world, with their power and lust for energy! It is because of you the righteous people cannot walk on this earth, live in a veritable Eden of tranquillity. I can see into your mind, little muggle, I can see that you agree with me…"

"Not entirely." Cecilia turned her head slowly to Voldermort. "For wizards are only marginally different to muggles, but through evolution – "

" – evolution!" Voldermort scorned softly. "Without the power that Watt gave muggles you would have died out, because of evolution. Then power would be rested with wizards and there would be no muggles…like parasites running around, contaminating the world…"

88888888

"Oh, changeover," said Bertie Griffin, nudging Bathsheba Braddle, getting to his feet. "You're with Arthur and Tonks now," he added, "and I'm with Sirius and Kingsley. Sturgis is with Mad-eye and Charlie," he added, breathing an inner sigh of relief.

"Wotcher," said Tonks, looking at Bathsheba, before walking back to the next hiding spot, behind huge bushy trees that blocked their way perfectly. Arthur followed on, hastening his pace a little. Just then, a blot of blue-white light illuminated the Death Eaters, making him jump.

"Steady, Arthur," said Bathsheba, patting Arthur Weasley on the shoulder, looking questioningly at Sturgis and Kingsley who rolled their eyes in acknowledgement.

"What is he doing…" Tonks, who had turned to look at the now silent scene beyond them, muttered distantly in Bertie's direction. The short, bearded wizard turned quickly and looked at her, shrugging.

"Looks like he's begging for his life to me," he replied, returning to stare through the shrubbery that concealed them from the border.

"Snivelling cowardly git!" commented Sirius at once.

"Looks to me like he's telling them about Cecilia," continued Bertie, as Arthur Weasley continued his slow pace in the wake of Tonks and Bathsheba.

"But they already know," said Kingsley, shaking his head and casting a glance in the direction of the Death Eaters. "I just don't understand why he hasn't given the sign yet…" Crouching behind the shrubbery, Kingsley Shacklebolt glared at Snape, holding his head defiantly in Voldermort's direction.

"…come on, Snape, give the sign…"

The rest of the wizards also began to stare out, with the exception of Sirius who looked across to another group. As one from it began to move he got to his feet and followed him.

"What do you mean, he?" Mad-eye Moody, his wooden leg and gnarled stick crept next to the watching wizards and he too began to watch what was happening.

The wizards looked at him intermittently, vaguely wondering what Mad-eye Moody was talking about before looking out on the scene again, watching the Death Eaters draw themselves close around Snape, who appeared to be muttering to himself.

"What do you mean, "what do you mean, he", Alastor?" asked Arthur Weasley turned to Moody and frowning in incomprehension.

"That's Cecilia Frobisher out there," Alastor Moody clarified, looking at her with his dynamic eye. Arthur Weasley continued to frown before, all at once, his face washed with realisation at what the retired Auror was saying.

"C…Cecilia Frobisher?! " he asked in alarm as Kingsley and Sturgis turned at Moody's words. "Merlin's beard…"

"Didn't you know?" asked Alastor slowly. "I thought that was part of the plan…"

Before Arthur Weasley could reply Tonks tapped him on the shoulder, her hand pointing at the Auror that was running towards them.

"Wilkins? What are you doing here? I you were supposed to be on guard duty at the school…" Tonks's voice trailed off as she stared at Belam Wilkins, an ageing Auror who was breathing bronchitically.

"I've been relieved; Dumbledore sent me to join the second formation with Mad-eye," he gasped, nodding towards Moody reverentially. Alastor Moody's eye swivelled in its socket, returning the acknowledgement. "Ministry Aurors are here, Dumbledore's briefing them..."

88888888

For the first time since he had materialised Voldermort moved from his position underneath the Dark Mark. Cecilia thought he resembled a blue-grey ghost, gliding forwards and gazing on her as she stood before him, holding Harry's potion in her hand again.

"The book," he insisted. "Speak, muggle!"

For a moment, Cecilia said nothing, she looked at the book and back to Voldermort, his red-hot eyes flaring and she bit her treacherous tongue that would tell him. Her inaction was too much for some of the Death Eaters and they began to grow restless from their positions behind her.

"Many," she said eventually, narrowing her eyes. He needs to do it now, she thought, he needs to destroy me…

"Enough!" Behind her, Bellatrix Lestrange pushed forward again, her wand angled towards Cecilia and her eyes bright. "Are we not going to end this, my Lord? I can get the muggle to reveal the secret..."

The secret, thought Cecilia. Is that all that is preventing you from killing me? The link between muggles and wizards? She watched as Voldermort turned his head to Bellatrix and appeared to contemplate her offer.

"Indeed, Bella for she is indeed weak. But I fear that your persuasion will not be as…gentle – " he glanced at Lucius Malfoy before back to Bellatrix, " – as that of Lucius. I need her intact, at least for a little while – " now he turned towards Cecilia, " – until I have the secret, the link."

"What are you going to do with the information once I give it to you?" she demanded, knowing that it sounded foolish. Around her the Death Eaters began to laugh mockingly. Voldermort looked at them, engaging in the joke as he nodded at each of them knowingly.

"I will destroy it, as I have done with your life, little muggle. For what stands before me is merely the empty shell that was once a soul – " He broke off as Cecilia smiled widely.

"No," she said simply, turning to the Death Eaters and declaring her defiance loudly again to them.

"Torture her!" screamed Bellatrix, raising her wand again. "She is a weak and powerless muggle. She will tell all!" At her demand for retribution Voldermort remained silent and Cecilia held up her arm.

"He dares not do that, Bellatrix…is it?" Cecilia said turning to the witch and smiling again as Bellatrix Lestrange blanched at her use of her name. "He knows that I have something here that will destroy him – " Cecilia turned to Voldermort, speaking as loudly as she could manage.

" – and how ironic it is that the connection you seek was the very foundation upon which this potion was created that will, when it meets the cells in your body, Voldermort, cause all your energy to ebb away, leaving you powerless – " She turned and addressed Bellatrix again.

" – so your version of power, will no longer apply, yet mine will. And he is frightened."

At her last sentence Cecilia turned towards Voldermort, gripping the vial in her fist and as she did so her bravery evaporated as Voldermort raised himself taller and pointing his wand at Cecilia in silent fury.

"You act brave muggle, in your new skin, standing before me holding your weapon. Yet I smell the fear in you…and you will die for it…"

Without warning, Voldermort swiped his wand through the air, pointing it down towards the ground before Cecilia had a chance to react and she gasped, terrified, as it moved.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green light followed and all eyes, both those close and further away, fixed on the curse's target.

It was worse than the pictures Cecilia had seen of Tonks's; worse even than the curse performed in her own dream or the animals Snape had slain in pursuit of the potion. Her heart began to slow to a dull, solid beat, as if it was requesting forgiveness for disturbing her thoughts…

Cecilia had seen the face of Oswald T. Avery junior, the failed Death Eater, turn from amused animation at the thought of her own impending doom, slowly and steadily to a mask of terror, slumping to the dew-sodden ground as the green light of the killing curse flooded his body, penetrating it. Making the energy leave his body; inhibiting the metabolic processes in each organ, each tissue, each cell…

She could not hide the horror in her face now, and in her pancreas she felt the adrenaline began to surge. Why aren't they coming, she thought desperately. What are they waiting for…?

And then around her, the Death Eaters as one looked towards their master. Cecilia turned and steeled herself, knowing that her turn to meet Avery's fate lay very close…

…curling her hand around the potion again, she too looked at Voldermort. Bellatrix raised her wand towards Cecilia.

"Before I die you need to know the truth Voldermort, about what you are up against, for you will not succeed." Her voice was beginning to grow thin as she spoke, the familiar effects of the potions that she had imbibed now beginning to take their toll.

Voldermort nodded, indicating that Bellatrix should lower her wand and Cecilia held her head aloft, taking a few steps backwards. Behind her she felt a wand in the small of her back and hot breath on her neck.

Ignoring Malfoy she pressed on Cecilia gave in to the speech she felt compelled to make before her silent assassins, trying to suppress the hysterical laughter that was forcing her to grin wildly.

"The plain fact is that you, together, are an accident of genetics; a rogue gene made wizards what they are, evolving from muggles. And you know it too…" Cecilia smirked, the words spilling from he mouth like groceries from a broken shopping bag. "…which is why your plans are what they are…" she grinned stupidly again. "…and why you think like you do…and why it will not work…"

"And what do you have planned?" Voldermort leaned towards Cecilia, his voice like gravestones grating together. "You know that if carry out your plan, and all that you hope for comes to pass then – you will die. No muggle would die voluntarily…you do not have the courage…"

Under the glare of Voldermort's powerful and dreadful presence, Cecilia stood to Snape's full height, looking him full in his face. This wizard wasn't something to fear, she told herself. He was a protein molecule or two different, that was all.

"Oh, you have a lot to learn about muggles," she retorted tenaciously, "because when you have seen over the edge of despair like I have, Voldermort, you know there's not much you wouldn't do to put one bit of goodness back!"

"Then let us show you how close it can be!" Behind her, Lucius Malfoy grabbed Cecilia's clothes at under her chin and tearing at her clothes as he threw her to the ground. Since it was Snape's body, what was exposed from the torn fabric in Malfoy's hand was dark and hairy and Malfoy stood above her, holding her at wandpoint.

"You really didn't think your actions would go un-noticed, Cecilia Frobisher?" he sneered, pulling off his mask and glaring at her with stone-grey eyes. "Your foray into Gringotts and the book you dropped. The bewitched book that you took instead of the one that Snape gave you, through which your secrets were no longer safe..."

Without warning, Malfoy raised his wand and simultaneously kicked her heavily in the ribs. Cecilia rolled to her right and curled her knees up to her chest involuntarily. But Lucius had not finished with her; he pulled her up to her feet, holding her so she faced Voldermort and angled her head towards his Lord.

"…how weak," mocked Voldermort, his voice thin and ethereal, "…how pathetic. How ironic that your kind has destroyed the planet; everything that you do is for your own selfish means, to strive and dominate…"

"And that…doesn't sound too much different…from your aims…" Cecilia could feel her voice growing thinner and she bit her lip, gripping the potion as she tried to focus. Stay alert…stay alert…

"I can sense the fear in you, muggle. You are terrified in my presence…"

"I have the weapon, Voldermort – " she began, panting for breath. Just at that moment, Lucius Malfoy gripped her tighter round her waist and she pulled against it, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. He loosened his grip and Cecilia pulled away, opening her right hand to reveal the blue glowing potion within her palm.

"You – " Malfoy screamed, but then stopped as Cecilia closed her hand and held it a little higher, swallowing and inhaling deeply. To her surprise, Voldermort began to laugh, his deep punctuations of mirth hitting her ears like Barnes-Wallace bouncing bombs.

"Snape works for me, muggle. He brought you here and the weapon!" Cecilia turned defiantly to Voldermort, narrowing her eyes.

"Who do you choose to believe Voldermort, Snape, who has collaborated with me on this every step of the way, or me who your faithful sheep has force-fed a truth potion?"

"Do you think I did not account for this? Do you think Snape has not merely been carrying out my orders?"

"If that were true," Cecilia spat back, "then you would not look so scared. I made this myself. I know its effects, and it will destroy you!"

"Science has known to be wrong."

"I had Severus," Cecilia replied weakly. "I know him…"she coughed…around her now things were becoming hazy…

…concentrate…concentrate…

"Severus." Voldermort rolled Snape's name around, as if savouring it with relish. "You have feelings for him…you care for him…" Around her she could hear a ripple of laughter and against the icy breeze that was flicking through the trees Cecilia felt herself blush.

"But you care more for another; it is satisfying to see what the wizard world has done to you, muggle, leaving you…hopeless…despairing…with nothing to live for…" At _his_ words of truth now, Cecilia felt herself shudder.

"The ball is in your court, Voldermort," she said, looking at him directly. It's me you answer to now, she added to herself as she saw him eye the potion, with just a mere flicker of hesitation pass over his grotesque features.

Then around her the atmosphere seemed to stop still, the air seeming to lull to nothing as she stood, an insignificant person before a wizard so powerful. A brave and clever scientist before an arrogant freak of nature.

"Never have I heard such insolence, my Lord." Bellatrix Lestrange, her determination to attack Cecilia overcoming her. Raising her wand she sent a bolt of light towards Cecilia, hitting her under her ribs. She staggered, but kept her balance, flicking the cork from the end of the vial and placing her finger over the neck.

"Leave her!" commanded Voldermort, snarling at Bellatrix. "The muggle is mine to deal with as I see fit." At last thought Cecilia, a grain of hope entering her mind. You need to kill me now, Voldermort. Instead, he threw "Mysterious Mythology" at her and she watched it fall to the damp earth.

"The stories. What do they mean?"

"They are science stories." But it is not Freya's. It is a copy, an illusion.

"What are they for?"

"To allow understanding for the intellectually challenged."

At her last insult, Lucius Malfoy kicked her swiftly in the region of Snape's kidneys. She sank to the floor. But that was the least of her concern; Cecilia barely felt the assault. Her eyesight was growing dull and the sight of Voldermort raising his wand in her direction looked out of focus and far away.

Towering above her the most powerful wizard in the world stood above Cecilia Frobisher, holding his arms aloft in a "V" as he glowered over his followers.

"I have to admit, muggle, that small part of me admires your foolish courage to face me; I do not recall one of your kind attempting that before. You have been an excellent sport and useful to our cause. And now, Cecilia Frobisher, you will die!"

"Avada…"

The word trailed off into the distance and Cecilia opened her hand, summoning what little strength she had left to aim the potion at Voldermort. But he had not spoken. Instead, he'd turned and was looking in the direction of Hogwarts. So were the rest of the Death Eaters.

Hastily, Cecilia scrambled to her feet, trying to ascertain whence the voice had arisen in the darkness and she tightened her finger so hard over the neck of the vial she was sure it would leave a bruise.

"Avada…"

The voice, louder now, reverberated around the clearing, past the Death Eaters and around Voldermort. Now Cecilia, could see that there was a figure, small for it was still far away, running towards them. She recognised the voice…

Cecilia held her fist aloft, turning to face Voldermort.

At the same time as she prepared to throw it felt as though the forest around them had erupted violently into action. She turned at a shriek that pierced the sky, missing her target as Harry ran past her.

Dropping the bottle, Cecilia turned painfully and ran, her head dizzy as the potion seeped into the grass…

Behind her she left the confusion, as she scrambled back up the steep bank down which she had walked so bravely almost half an hour ago. Behind her explosions of light and sound cacophonised the clearing which was now alive with the Order of the Phoenix. Spells were cast haphazardly as wizards on both sides launched into battle.

But this did not concern Cecilia now as ahead of her she spied the rock where she had hidden earlier, its cool surface beckoning her hot, lethargic body…

…just up there she could rest…just up there she could sleep…

The roar of battle behind her now increased in ferocity as Cecilia stumbled over the scarp slope. Underneath her hands the rough nodules of a near-buried rock scratched away at her epidermis as she fell towards it, slumping onto her stomach. And then she felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling at her clothing.

"Get off!" Cecilia tried to scream the words and allay the hand on her shoulder, but now her strength had waned. _Now_ she was done for. _Now_ she had failed. _Now_ she would die…

"Mrs Frobisher, it's me!" declared Ron, pulling her out of sight of the Death Eater who, by the light of the silvery moon, saw her illuminated and an easy target and a bolt of yellow light narrowly missed her foot. "Mrs Frobisher…"

Cecilia looked up, her mind racing. She had not planned for what she should do when she got away from the Death Eaters and Voldermort for it had not been her intention to do so. Muzzily she inched towards the rock, feeling sweat flood her face and she put her cheek towards the rock.

"Mrs Frobisher, you have to get away!" Ron continued urgently, looking past the rock and at the Death Eaters who had clocked where she had gone. "Come on!" he demanded, "you've got to try; I can't leave _him_…" He indicated to the unconscious Draco Malfoy

Nodding, Cecilia gripped Ron's forearm and with supreme effort he hauled Snape's large frame up to its feet as Cecilia pressed her soles to the ground. Behind them, footsteps were beginning to thud louder on the ground as pursuers approached quickly.

"Come on!" urged Ron, "not far." He nodded in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Weakly Cecilia staggered, upon treacherous ground that appeared to slip away under her feet. When they had got fifty yards, a couple of trees deep Ron finally let go of her arm, dropping Malfoy to the ground with a bump.

"You'll be safe here," he reassured Cecilia hastily as she sank to her knees. Safe…Cecilia ran the word over in her mind. Safe…

Ron however was looking past Cecilia, at the figure just behind her. His face wrinkled in anticipatory fear and he gestured in Cecilia's direction.

"She took the potion, Professor," he gabbled frantically and Minerva McGonagall stopped her determined pursuit of another wayward student, glancing at Severus Snape's buckled form before narrowing her eyes in Ron's direction.

"Your brothers, Mr Weasley, Fred and George," she clarified authoritatively, "have taken Mrs Frobisher to the hospital…" she turned her austere gaze from her errant student to her erratic colleague. "Severus, I think you should get back there yourself…"

"But Professor – " Ron began to argue as McGonagall swished her tartan robe over her shoulder but Cecilia placed her hand on his forearm and he fell silent.

"And as for you, Mr Weasley and, er, Mr Malfoy," Minerva McGonagall assertively. "Both of you shall remain here until I return. Then I shall escort you – both – " she glanced uncertainly at Draco, "back to the safety of the school." With that, she turned heel and hurried down through the trees in the direction of the rising battle.

"Mrs Frobisher," whispered Ron uncertainly as he stood over her, "that is you, isn't it?" Cecilia nodded weakly, gripping Ron's arm and pulled him towards her.

"Ron…Harry…" Her frantic thoughts bounced and flitted round her mind as she tried to vocalise her thoughts into comprehensible sentences. "Why did he take it?" she demanded. "I said – it wasn't not perfect. I said – wasn't done…" Pulling on his arm she pushed herself into a sitting position, her waxen face illuminated ghoulishly in the moonlight. Helping her carefully, Ron looked at her, glancing past her shoulder briefly before looking at Snape's face.

"I don't think we can do anything about it now," he began, pausing as he registered her words. "Mrs Frobisher," he began again, "not perfect? But you made it, using Harry's mum's sample. It's perfect…" His voice trailed off as Cecilia gripped his sleeve pulling him towards her.

"No," she whispered, coughing roughly and trying to focus on Ron's confused face and she reached into her pocket, pulling out the small piece of brown pottery that she had taken from the Godric's Hollow crime scene almost a month ago.

"This is all I took; nothing of Lily Potter's DNA. I never intended for Harry to take it! Even with the sample it would have…" Cecilia inhaled raggedly, "…been too dangerous…" Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes briefly, the noise from the battle growing in her ears, despite their distance from it now. Ron took a few steps away from Cecilia, looking in its direction, his hand to his mouth.

"Then Harry's going to…die…" He looked back down at Cecilia before glancing back up. In his view he saw what he thought he had seen just a few minutes ago. The figure took a few steps towards them, smiling weakly at Ron.

"Professor? I mean, Lupin?"

Remus, thought Cecilia, her heart beginning to beat faster. With difficulty she turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at his beautiful features picked out in the dulled moonlight…

…he wasn't looking himself, thought Cecilia. He wasn't well; his face was far paler than usual and his eyes bloodshot…

"Remus," she tried, but Ron spoke first.

"Harry's taken the potion, Professor. Professor Snape…" he gestured to Cecilia on the ground, "he's taken the potion too…"

"What?" Remus shot a look in Cecilia's direction, disbelief mixed with accusation. "Snape, you let him do that? You fool! You idiot!" He took an angry step towards Cecilia and she narrowed her eyes.

"I couldn't – stop – him," she gasped, giving a passable imitation of Snape as she got shakily to his feet. "Impetuous boy," she added, trying to mean it as she stared at Remus, her breathing laboured.

"I encouraged him," said Ron, looking between Remus and Cecilia. "It wasn't Professor Snape," he added loyally.

"Now if you'll excuse me," she continued, looking away from Remus, "I'll just be – " But Remus was too quick for her, and for Ron, who was a second too slow to stand between Remus and Cecilia.

"No you don't!" he shouted, catching Cecilia roughly by the shoulders as she made to stagger away. "Not until we've had a little chat…" Releasing a hand from her left shoulder, Remus delved into his cloak and withdrew his wand. Ron opened his mouth to say something and then caught Cecilia's glare.

"Mr Weasley," she began, focusing on Ron and ignoring Remus. "Potter's in danger. You've got to warn the Order somehow. Make someone listen to you; Minerva…Dumbledore. They'll be able to do something. Do you understand?"

Ron looked hastily between Cecilia and Remus, nodding mutely as another shadow began to pass over their lunar spotlight. She looked back at Lupin, who had lowered his wand and was now staring at her with an expression of fixed hysteria…

"Mrs Frobisher!" whispered Ron, staring at Lupin. "Cecilia!" he added. At her name, she turned to him and tried to issue her best teacher stare.

"Ron, get out of here!" she ordered, flicking her head painfully in the direction of the battle. "You – need – to – go!" But Ron was not listening to her and she turned her head to look where he was staring.

"Cecilia?" Remus whispered her name quietly as Ron continued to fix his stare on him. She nodded instinctively. "Get out of here…!"

As he spoke, the clouds that were masking the full moon began to part and Cecilia watched Ron's face fill with horror.

"Ron!" she began, "what's the – " But he sentence remained unsaid as her mouth fell open. Behind Lupin, Sirius Black appeared.

"So, Remus, what do we have here?" He looked at Cecilia disparagingly before noticing that she was not alone. "Ron! What are you doing here?"

Before anyone could answer, Ron pointed in the direction of the now exposed moon, bereft of any decency that the clouds could offer it and Sirius's face turned from mocking scorn to horrified shock as he followed the young wizard's gesture.

Cecilia glanced there too before returning to the now-sickening expression of Lupin, who was scanning the sky frantically, which had now beclothed the moon with other clouds as quickly as it had deprived it of the others.

What was going on? she asked silently, slipping underfoot and staggering past Ron as she tried to work it out. Turning from his analysis of the moon, Sirius turned and stared at Cecilia.

"Snivellus," he declared loudly, taking a step towards Cecilia. "Running away from things yet again, you cowardly, pathetic half-blood wizard, you?" Shocked, Cecilia glanced down before looking sharply at Ron.

"Go now! Do as I say!" She glared at Ron who was now looking desperately between the three adults before him.

"How dare you speak to him in that manner!" Sirius took a few murderous steps towards Snape's body. "Have you never wondered, Snivellus, why you are so unpopular? It is that manner that fails to endear yourself to people! You cannot just treat people like that…"

But his words were beginning to wash over Cecilia's head now and she backed against the tree again, sliding down its rough branches.

"Ron. For Harry's sake…your best friend…leave me and save him…go…"

Without another word, Ron stepped over the still-unconscious form of Draco, grabbing his arm in his wake and dragging him roughly over the rocky ground as he sped from them and deeper into the forest.

"And now – " Sirius approached Cecilia further and he stepped past his friend, focusing on her his glare. Remus held out his arm, grabbing his friend on his robe sleeve.

"This is it Sirius," he whispered and Cecilia looked at his face that had grown paler and more sickly than before. "I'm on my own. Look after her."

A moment of confusion passed between all three of them as they looked at one another uncomprehendingly.

"What?!"

"Just do it, Padfoot!"

And before Cecilia's failing eyes, illuminated by the naked glare of the full moon, Sirius backed away from her as Remus Lupin howled…

"Come on, you stupid idiot!" Sirius pulled Snape's unflinching body away from the tree. Stumbling, Cecilia found herself being hauled away from Remus Lupin, now in full werewolf form, and towards a thick shrubbery. Pushing her roughly to the ground, he peered between the stubby branches of the hawthorn.

"This wouldn't have happened if you – " he stabbed a finger in Cecilia's direction, " – had made the wolfsbane! Now look at him! You've put us all in danger!" With a swift kick in the ribs, he grinned horribly as Cecilia slumped to the ground again.

"Sirius, you don't understand…"

"That stupid muggle, look what she's done! Harry's now in danger, and – "

"Sirius – " But Cecilia's effort at explaining to Sirius his error was interrupted by a bloodcurdling howl coming from much closer than she had anticipated. Her heart began to race, but her hands were growing colder. With effort, she knelt forward, wondering how she could get away.

"And if you think you're running off into danger _again_, Snivellus, then you've got another think coming!" Sirius held Cecilia's shoulder firmly and she remained in her kneeling position as Sirius peered through the shrubbery branches again.

Then, without warning, he took Snape's wrist, hauling her to her feet again. Cecilia swayed, trying to breathe but in desperation began to hyperventilate. Sirius frowned scornfully, shaking her arm.

"Gods Snivellus, you really are a weak and foolish wizard! It was no wonder that your muggle father dumped you here and _moved_ in your first year. I know I would, if it meant getting you off my hands and – "

Another howl, this time Lupin sounded even closer and Sirius glanced furtively around, shaking her arm ferociously and lowering his voice.

" – if I don't murder you tonight it won't be lack of trying. No-one would have trouble believing that you succumbed to an accident…"

"Sirius…"

"What!" He looked, annoyed, at where Cecilia was pointing past him. A werewolf was staring at them.

Remus, she thought desperately, recalling the deathly expression on his face moments ago. Was it really him? He knew it was her, didn't he? Hadn't he told Sirius to look after her?

With supreme effort Cecilia got unsteadily to her feet and began to move in the werewolf's direction it reared up onto its hind legs, howling deep and macabrely.

"Idiot! Get moving!" shouted Sirius, shaking Cecilia . "Come on!" he yelled as she stumbled and he grabbed hold of Snape's forearm, out of the forest. Behind them, a few moments later the werewolf began to give chase…

88888888

And now as the wargame began to get into its stride, the opponents evenly matched and the gaming space clear. The aforementioned observer would probably be quite satisfied that the rules of the game were being adhered to without risk of interruptions by now-redundant pieces.

The game could go on as planned and the potential for the board to be upended by the family pet eliminated…

…for it was busy chasing two of the now-redundant pieces towards the Whomping Willow…

88888888


	24. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

"Get in there, Snivellus!"

Sirius Black pushed Cecilia Frobisher in through the door of the Shrieking Shack that led from the passage under the Whomping Willow, ignoring her protests and demands to be released. Behind them a mournful howl of the werewolf that had been chasing them echoed bluntly through the passage and into the haunted house and Sirius turned menacingly on her as Cecilia tried to push back past him.

"Don't try me!" he warned, shaking her arm roughly before striding back towards the door as another howl reverberated along the passageway again. Remus Lupin in his werewolf form sounded very close now indeed and at the sound Sirius peered around the old wooden door, brandishing his wand.

Cecilia scurried across to the dirt- and cobweb-encrusted window and peered through it as the lights from the spells being cast in battle appeared to decorate the sky in many different colours. As she watched them illuminate the night sky she exhaled deeply at the ever-increasing pain in her chest and head that was beginning to worsen…

…the evening washed over her mind, and she stared at the spell-lights. She had stood up to Voldermort and, to a greater extent, held her own. And she should be dead by now, having thrown Harry's potion at the precise moment that Voldermort had cast the Avada Kedavra curse.

But instead Harry had appeared…and she had run….

…she was not meant to be here; she had never accounted for the fact that she would not now be lying on the ground surrounded by wizards having been instantly killed by Voldermort or a Death Eater…

Now, her body was frail and it was taking every ounce of willpower not to collapse in a heap on the floor. And so therefore, in addition to the interesting if unpredictable effects from the polyjuice potion, the Veitaserum would continue destroy her cells, her body would continue to fail and eventually, over the course of the next few hours, slowly claim her life.

Behind her she heard Sirius perform a spell, a light as bright as a camera flash sparking briefly and she turned to see the earth above the passage come crashing down, filling in part of the tunnel. That would stop the werewolf, thought Cecilia absently…that would stop Remus…

Then Sirius turned, throwing the door closed behind him and he began to take menacing steps towards Cecilia, his wand still raised and she looked between the wand and the wizard, feeling herself shudder under Sirius's hostile gaze.

"Do you believe me to be frightened?" she spat, intoning Snape's voice in scornful derision as she had heard him do so many times before and she took a step back, flattening her back against the wall of the shack. Sirius stopped walking and cast a loathing look at her before stowing away his wand.

"Well your expression says you that are, Snivellus," he spat back, suddenly gripping Snape's wrists in his hands and pressing Cecilia against the wall. "Why aren't you fighting?" he asked as she froze under his grip, "…_scared_, Snivellus? _Cowardly_? Like the last time you came face to face with Lupin's other form?" His voice was coarse and mocking, in an apparent effort to humiliate Snape. "…only it was James that saved your neck then, Snivellus. And look how you repaid him!"

And _you_ put him in danger, thought Cecilia, unearthing memories of a long-ago conversation. You, and Harry's father, you put him in danger. He shouldn't have to be grateful for you getting him out!

"I took Potter's potion," began Cecilia, her mouth moving slowly as she glanced down at Sirius's hands, still holding fast her wrists. "I instructed him not to – "

" – well, it appears to have had the desired effect, Snivellus!" Sirius glowered in triumph, grinning horribly at Cecilia as she struggled against his grip to free her hands. "I watched you, begging for your life; you were powerless against your other allies tonight! I must say if I ever thought that the removal of your powers would have been the cause of so much…entertainment – " at this he sneered at her, "– I would have arranged for it to have happened sooner – "

At his words, Cecilia fought harder against Sirius's grip and he released her, stepping away from her began to stalk towards the door.

"So what now?" asked Cecilia, her heart beginning to race. "Why have you dragged me in here when you could be out there helping those people you claim to love? Why are you, Sirius Black, not out there fighting with the Order…?" At her words, Sirius turned swiftly a-heel, staring at her menacingly again.

"A very good question, Snivellus," he began, pacing with intent towards her again. "Why have I brought you here when they – " he gestured towards the window through which coloured flashes of light were still coming, " – will be engaged a good many hours in defeating your Dark Lord? When you are at your most vulnerable…?"

At his words Cecilia felt a flash of fear enter her mind. What could Sirius hope to gain from Snape, being effectively locked inside a haunted building when, further away, a battle was being fought…

Sirius advanced further, his face now inches from hers. Cecilia tried to shrink further back and she felt the wood of the shack press into her back as she retreated.

"…why have I brought you here…" Sirius rolled the musing around on his tongue as he savoured Cecilia's terrified look and she felt her eyes widen. Surely Sirius didn't intend to _kill _Snape?

"I should be at home, my family's home, where Dumbledore instructed I should return once the battle began, but instead I am here to support my friend in his hour of need because you failed him…" He turned and paced away heavily.

"Remus," croaked Cecilia softly, "a werewolf…" In her mind's eye the image of him changing from the man she loved into a hideous beast began to replay again.

"Of course a werewolf!" snarled Sirius turning back to her. "Was it under _her _request that you decided not to make the wolfsbane potion for him, or did you decide to deprive him of his only link to humanity yourself?"

"Cecilia Frobisher does not control me!" she felt herself saying. "Wolfsbane herb was necessary in Harry's potion…" Her mind was not on the conversation with Sirius now, it raced to fill in the gaps. So Snape hadn't told Remus the reason for not making is potion? He'd just stopped producing anything…?

"A convenient tale," Sirius spat, approaching Cecilia again and watching her intently. "More likely that she told you to do it, and in your haste to please her, a good wizard has lost his very decency – " he came closer to Snape's form, standing six inches from his nose, his wand between them, " – your brave little muggle who thinks she can save the world. _So_ like Henrietta, wouldn't you say?" A light flashed across Sirius's eyes as he said the name.

"So, we are here to drag up the past," said Cecilia as calmly as she could, recalling Minerva's memory from all those months ago. Snape had planned to propose to Henrietta in the Shrieking Shack before Sirius had laughed at him and threatened to tell anyone that asked, she recalled.

From around in the dark edges of her mind Cecilia scrabbled for a weapon and she watched Sirius back away and pace towards the dusty bed that Cecilia had sat on all those months ago…

"After she saw you for what you really were she became a muggle…you drove her to it!" Cecilia felt Snape's lip curl as she spoke. There! She'd defended Severus in absentia, defended him towards this horrible childhood bully.

…and then she saw the danger too late; moved too late…Sirius discarded his wand furiously and launched himself towards her.

"You caused that, Snivellus!" he snarled. Grabbing her by Snape's torn clothes he hurled her towards the dusty floor. Cecilia fell heavily, her already bruised body landing painfully on the floorboards. He raised a fist and she rolled against the bedpost, hitting her shoulder hard.

"Come on, you coward," Sirius bated. "Get to your feet and face me! It's been far too long since we should have settled this!"

Through blurred vision, Cecilia held her hand over her face as Sirius advanced on her and pulling her to her feet with the bunched clothing he had grabbed a few moments ago. Cecilia's mind ticked over desperately as he pulled back his right arm to his shoulder…

No! Her mind screamed in silent urgency as Sirius's fist hit her on Snape's hard jaw. Cecilia reeled at the unexpected punch and it sent her down onto the dusty floorboards again and she lay still in shock. Sirius hit her…hit Snape…

How dare he hit him! The indignant thought in the back of her mind screamed above all others. How dare he?! Balling up her hands into fists Cecilia made to get up, but a triumphant Sirius put a foot down heavily on her chest to stop her moving. Nevertheless she fought to turn Snape's head in his direction.

"How dare you speak of Henrietta," she growled in Snape's voice indignantly. At her retort, Sirius stared at her, pressing down harder on Snape's ribs with his foot, laughing mockingly.

"Oh, but of course," he sneered, bending towards her cruelly. "You _loved_ her, didn't you? You were going to tell her. And then suddenly everyone knew you, the hard wizard of Slytherin had feelings for a muggle-born!" At Cecilia's angry expression he continued to laugh.

"Don't you remember Snivellus, earning your nickname, in your first year…me and James…it only took us two minutes to realise what a slimy git you were and we got you good and proper! We had such a laugh when heard you couldn't stop crying for home and then, when old Lyras Stone told us about you after he got transferred to Gryffindor…calling for your father in your sleep! For everyone else it was their mum! And then, when your father turned out to be a muggle…by Jove you had trouble living that one down, didn't you?" He laughed mockingly at Snape's expense before adding, "You _hated_ it at school and now, you can't get enough of the place..."

At Sirius's words Cecilia felt herself getting angry. How dare he laugh so brazenly when she was there, as Snape, incapacitated! How could he laugh at Snape's misfortune?

With supreme effort, Cecilia levered Sirius's foot off her chest, watching him stagger back as she got to her feet.

"Oh Sirius, still carping on about the past?" It was Cecilia's turn to mock Sirius now. "That is all you have, I suppose, isn't it…?"

"Why you – " began Sirius, pacing towards her but Cecilia had backed up against the bedpost, grappling for something – anything – to defend herself with. With luck her hand brushed against a small wooden dowel that lay under on decrepit, dusty bed and she seized it, holding it out in front of her. Sirius eyed it with suspicion.

"…so we just have to wait until Harry has done what you intended then…" he continued, changing track as he paced over to the broken piano. "That will give me plenty of time to keep you out of the way…"

"He won't," argued back Cecilia, the effects of the Veritaserum still very much with her. "The muggle did not do it. I never removed anything of genetic worth from Godric's Hollow. I intended to attack Voldermort all along…"

Sirius stopped suddenly in his about pace and stared at her fixedly.

"What did you say?"

"…the plan was simple until your beloved godson interrupted…it was nearly done…"

"No Snape, the potion. Did you say that Cecilia has not made the potion?"

"She has made it," said Cecilia, trying to fight the dizziness and disorientation she was feeling that had crept on her now her adrenaline was beginning to wane. "But I didn't check Lily Potter's DNA. The potion wasn't perfect. I didn't have time to make it perfect for Harry…"

Moving quickly, Sirius made a grab for the wooden dowel that Cecilia had lowered from her defence, unbalancing her. Before she met with the floor again Sirius made another grab for her clothing and hauled her back up to a standing position.

"Get up you pathetic git!" he growled. "You're going to help me do something that I should have done years ago! _You_ are going to help _me_ protect Harry, Snivellus. You're going to get out there despite Remus and save him because I cannot!" As he gesticulated in the direction of the shack's filthy windows he slammed his fist against the wall, knocking off piles of dust.

"No." Cecilia's word rang out clear; its monosyllable seemingly echoing long after it should have died away. Sirius looked at her fiercely before throwing her against the bed.

"Whatever you took, it has made you very brave in the face of mortal peril, Snivellus. Perhaps the influence of that muggle has caused your soft spot for the weak. It's pathetic!"

Sirius turned to pace back across the room and when he had turned, Cecilia took the opportunity to respond to her injuries, breathing in heavily the dust-filled air as she fought her chronic lightheadedness.

"Yes, I suppose I am pathetic to you," she breathed faintly, not caring now that Sirius was once again advancing on her. This time, he took her by the shoulders but she could only sigh as the breath left her lungs when he threw her to the floor.

"Come on," he taunted. "Fight me! It's not like you, Snivellus, not to fight back!" But Cecilia barely heard his words, nor registered his sharp kick to her ribs.

"You let her make the potion imperfect!" His words dropped over her like rain as she began to curl Snape's body into a ball.

Above her Sirius continued to rage but now Cecilia could only concentrate on the bubbly, prickly sensation that invaded her body. She watched as the skin on her hands began to pale from Snape's darker colouring…his fingers began to shorten to her own stubby ones…her hair began to grow longer and her legs shorter…her hips widen…her nose return to its small stubby shape…

"…you knew it would be like that and to save yourself you went among your pals…"

Cecilia didn't know how long it took for her to return to her proper form but, as it occurred, so did the feelings in her body, responding in protest to its abuse, throbbing and stinging as a feeling of nausea began to swell in her stomach and she glanced at her skin, filthy and torn, covered in mud and blood.

"…you were behind with the potion and you were scared of failing again…"

As Sirius raged, she remained curled up as she considered what to do now. In a few moments he would realise she wasn't Snape.

And, when Sirius's voice trailed off from castigating her Cecilia knew that Sirius had noticed…

…staring down at the figure that had been Snape Sirius placed a hand on her shoulder and turned Cecilia slowly to face him. If she had been in any position to appreciate the humour of the situation Cecilia would have laughed.

"B…b…" Sirius's face was a picture of bewildered disbelief as he stuttered at her. Cecilia nodded slowly, as a hauntingly familiar pain shot down her left-hand side.

"Why didn't you say…?" he began, his voice trailing off before pointing towards the window and declaring accusingly, "…but you were out there!"

Cecilia said nothing as Sirius turned and stooped to her level, trying to move her to a sitting position but she pushed his hand away and slid towards the rough wooden walls of the Shrieking Shack.

Backing away, Sirius shook his head before turning and walking back quickly towards her; as if he was having problems assimilate the information.

"You took Harry's potion?" he asked, staring at her intently. Cecilia shook her head, the words of truth forcing themselves into her throat as if alive while she fought to remain silent.

"Harry took it, though I intended him not to. And Snape did too. There's nothing I can do to help him now; I can't undo any effects it might have on him." Cecilia fixed her eyes back up on Sirius and she spoke clearly, determined to relieve her conscience as the shock of the situation she was in hit her like Sirius's earlier punch.

"I have done what you believed I was going to do, Sirius: I have caused Harry to come to harm…and I ran away…" Her voice trailed away as she took in Sirius who was shaking his head in disagreement.

"No," Sirius said, shaking his head fervently, "…no…Snape…I believed you to be Snape…" a look of utter disbelief washing over his face.

"…at best Harry will be unharmed, Sirius," Cecilia pressed on, ignoring the pain and dizziness that was beginning to build in her head. Got to keep him talking…

"…or he may suffer, or lose his powers permanently…at worst he will die…"

But Sirius wasn't listening to her, continuing instead to stare at her in disbelief.

"But you took the potion…_polyjuice potion_…" he clarified as Cecilia shook her head in refutation. "…you took a potion…!"

"And now you can finish the job. Now you have the reason to finish me off, like you did at Christmas, " Cecilia added provocatively. But Sirius refused to be swayed from his line of thought.

"…you became Snape and stood before the most powerful wizard of all time!" He began to pace up and down before Cecilia, shaking his head. "You challenged him! And all the time Snape was going to turn you over tonight, to save himself…"

As he broke off Cecilia felt herself shudder. Hadn't Voldermort himself said as much to her before? With a show of effort Cecilia clambered to her feet, beads of sweat breaking on her forehead.

"I will not believe that."

"Well you wouldn't! That act that you put on, Cecilia…" he continued to pace, glaring at her as he went, "to make sure the world bows down to that picture in your mind! You waltz into our world; you ally yourself to Snape…"

"I see him for what he is! And he me! He gave me the chance and – " Cecilia began to feel hot anger swell in her chest curdling horribly with her growing nausea.

"He had no choice!" Sirius mocked coldly.

"But he believed…would it have made a difference then if I'd been a witch?"

"Yes! No! Stop this!" Sirius stopped pacing and marched towards her and Cecilia stared back defiantly. The pain that was inflicting her side continued to grow, passing like a shadow over her chest. She needed to infuriate him; argue with him. Then with any luck he wouldn't notice her health.

"All this matters to you…witch, wizard, different types of blood…you are closer to your family than you are willing to admit. You are no better than those wizards out there…no better than a Death Eater yourself…"

With fury in his eyes Sirius made to advance, but then suddenly turned, and looked out of the window.

"Yes," he agreed, "I am no better than them." Cecilia watched as Sirius let his arms fall energyless to his sides. "I have murdered – "

"Henrietta…" prompted Cecilia softly and he nodded in agreement. Sirius looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowing.

"How _do _you know about Henrietta?"

"You would be surprised what I know," she replied quietly.

"Yes, I killed Henrietta," confirmed Sirius, shaking his head but Cecilia wasn't listening now; her mind was running over the logic of the situation that had transpired almost an hour ago. If he had killed Henrietta, then….

Cecilia felt her face fill with horrified realisation and she made a grab for Sirius's berobed arm, pushing back the sleeve. Sirius made to pull away, but Cecilia had seen enough. She looked up at him uncomprehendingly.

"You killed Henrietta…" she began, shaking her head in disbelief for indeed, there was no Dark Mark on his arm. For a moment, Sirius looked confused too and he pushed past her. Then he turned back and smiled. "The Avada Kedavra curse…" She looked at him accusingly, meeting Sirius's uncomprehending glare.

"What you saw tonight?" Cecilia nodded slowly. "That wasn't me. No, " he shook his head. "That was my brother Regulus." Sirius shook his head and walked away from her. "He was a part metamorphamagus – like Tonks," he clarified, beginning to pace back. "On the night that I had declared her – _argued with her_," he corrected himself quickly, "Regulus changed his appearance to look like me, took her to Voldermort and killed her to prove his loyalty. Because of his appearance Sni – Snape always thought it had been me. And then when Voldermort attacked Harry and Pettigrew set me up and I got sent to Azkaban, no-one thought to ask any more questions." Sirius stopped pacing and strode towards her meaningfully, staring into Cecilia's eyes.

"Regulus did it deliberately as me…Wanted me back part of the family…Wouldn't accept his elder brother had gone… Used it as the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone…Took me at my word when he overheard me and Hen arguing about her becoming a muggle…" Each sentence trailed off as Sirius paced: clearly he was still bitter about these events in his life and Cecilia felt a pang of pity for him.

Misborn, thought Cecilia, watching Sirius now he had shared with her the circumstances behind what she had seen that evening. And, as she watched Sirius pace angrily before her, Cecilia felt her face fall. Libby…! Derek…! Tim…?!

Sirius stopped and looked at her slowly, and Cecilia realised she had spoken their names aloud. She raised her hand to her mouth as Sirius looked at her and nodded slowly.

"Bellatrix, my cousin," he added quietly, watching as Cecilia stared back at him, willing him to take it back.

"I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, but I cannot. What you saw was indeed real. They happened." But Cecilia was shaking her head, backing away towards the wall of the shack again, sensing what felt like a hand of ice squeezing her heart.

It couldn't be true! Not her best friend? Not murdered by _them_?!

Shaking her head, Cecilia realised it was now only the part of her that was clinging to hope that she had to convince, for deep down she knew what Sirius had confirmed was true.

"It is unfortunate that I am the one to tell you this, Cecilia," Sirius's voice had changed to a softer, more grave tone. "Your friend Libby is dead, as is her husband. She fought my cousin, who led the attack, fought her well. But in the end they were too weak…"

"And Tim?"

"That was just a random muggle baiting. He was found by chance up a mountain and killed. By Bellatrix again, I'm afraid to say. To be honest, Cecilia, I thought Dumbledore had already told you that. That was how he had found you to work with Snape…"

"No," whispered Cecilia. "He didn't." Her mind raced back to the relevant information and she stared at Sirius, waiting for his expression to change as she began bolder and louder. "He told me there were other muggles that were employed to fight Voldermort. He told me I was one of many…"

Sirius's confused expression told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't one of many after all…

"So now what?" she asked, turning from Sirius and looking out of the window, at the night sky still illuminated by visible energy from the continued battle. "Now I am not powerless Severus to whom you were going to do who knows what to in here…sealed in…"

"We can talk," replied Sirius, his voice gruffer and more aggressive. "You can give me answers…"

"Like what?!" Cecilia felt her skin flush, her pain recommencing its slow advance over her body as her personal grief was replaced momentarily by provoked rage as she found herself face to face by an equally annoyed wizard.

"Like, how you thought you'd face Voldermort, you silly fool! Like how you thought you would put others in danger for yourself! Like how come Harry is out there now with your potion that might kill him! Like how you could let him take it! Like how you were out there – " he stabbed his finger in the direction of the battle, "as a _muggle_ Cecilia, taking down the most powerful wizard in the world…!"

"No," replied Cecilia, looking at the floor. "Harry took the potion even though I told him it wasn't ready...even when I warned him. A teenager, I suppose..."

"Quite probably," replied Sirius, his voice calmer and slower. "But we can't do anything about that now. You couldn't help it, Cecilia. Snape knew. Snape should have made it perfect for him, but as usual he had plans of his own…"

Cecilia looked at Sirius, her eyes narrowing. Snape wasn't sending her to her death, she thought fiercely. She'd witnessed him being tortured on her account yet again. She knew him…

"He didn't know of my plan…I took nothing of Lily's from Godric's Hollow – "

"He should have noticed that you hadn't done what you'd said – " She shook her head, fiercely.

"Snape took some of Harry's match to go with his own base, Sirius. He didn't want Harry taking it when, even if there was no sample, it was so dangerous." She looked down. "He knew I hadn't got any."

Reaching into her robe in response to Sirius's sceptical expression she withdrew the brown chunk of pottery that she had shown Ron almost an hour ago and held it towards Sirius, flat on her palm. He looked at it mutely, as the moonlight caught its uneven edges.

"Nothing but an old broken dish. Nothing on it bar sixteen years of rain…"

"But I – " Sirius stopped, looking up from her hand, taking in her dishevelled appearance…her matted hair, and torn clothes, before returning, shocked, to her filthy face.

"What?" she whispered, goading him. "You thought I'd taken it. Didn't you?"

"And why wouldn't I?" he retorted with equal savagery, pushing away her hand, "you've taken so much from me already!" Sirius marched away from her, leaving further footprints in the dust on the floor before turning back to her, his tirade building as he clenched his fists in frustration at Cecilia. 

"You take us into this world of science…with promises of things we have been struggling for decades…you made them trust you...you were so brilliant! So bright!" He threw his hands in her direction. "…while we were all strutting around ignorantly you came and turned it around for us…you were the right man for the job, as Moody said…"

"…well he should know…" whispered Cecilia to herself wryly. She always had a distinct impression that Alastor Moody could see right through her clothes. Sirius looked at her distractedly before walking away from her again.

"They shouldn't have listened to you. I should have been the one to do something for Harry. All those years I haven't been there for him!" Now he turned away from Cecilia, and she watched as he dropped his head at the neck. Then he turned and continued, his voice lower as he watched Cecilia intently.

"Harry shouldn't have liked you…Remus shouldn't have fallen for you…the Weasley family shouldn't have been intrigued by your quirks…Tonks shouldn't have forgiven you…"

From her position by the wall Cecilia watched as Sirius looked out of the window and the moonlight shone through, reflecting off his face.

"What?" she whispered as his expression changed. She followed his line of sight to where Sirius was looking and, as she took in the face of the moon, daring not only to peer around the edge of the cloud as it had done earlier, but to brazenly expose itself, hanging globularly in the sky. Then, as if on cue, the mournful moan of a werewolf echoed around them, its blood-curdling edge muffled through the collapsed earth that was imprisoning them.

"…Remus…"

Cecilia whispered his name absently as she turned her head sharply in the direction of the door and she made to take a step in its direction. As she lifted up her foot, a sharp ache shot down to it and she bent her knees, allowing herself to slide to the floor. Sirius turned from his own glance at the door and watched her dissolve into floods of tears.

Slowly, he approached her, crouching beside her as she sobbed and waited. Eventually her sobs ebbed to sniffs and she looked at Sirius with a grubby, tear-streaked face.

"Remus is a werewolf," she stated, more for her own benefit than for his. "Why didn't he tell me, Sirius?" Her voice was cracked and there was pleading in her eyes. Sirius smiled wanly and slid down next to Cecilia, looking at her sympathetically as he pulled the remains of her cloak around her shuddering shoulders.

"Would you have loved Moony? Could you? When every night before Snape had perfected the wolfsbane potion he had to turn into a mindless killer? He lived with the constant worry that no-one was skipping out of the castle on an illicit liaison that night otherwise he may be their unwitting murderer. He has had the burden of this on his life since he was a small boy, Cecilia and come across so much prejudice and hatred." Cecilia turned her head sharply and looked down, before glancing back at Sirius.

"…since John Lupin took ownership of the book from Raymond Lully, Remus's life changed forever…did you really think, after you had pried into Harry's and my past I was going to let you find out about Remus…?"

Sirius's words were the mere garnish to Cecilia's own thoughts and panic began to rise in her chest and she recalled the words that Voldermort had spoken…"Fenrir Greyback was able, at least, to give John Lupin's son something to remember him by…" And that meant…

"Freya!" Cecilia almost jumped on Sirius in as panic began to rise in her chest. "She had M – " But Sirius had put a hand to her mouth.

"She is safe," he replied dismissively. "Which was more than you could hope for by entrusting it to a _child_. What Remus can ever see to fall for in you when you behave with so little sense, I do not know…" His voice trailed off as Cecilia pushed his hand from her mouth, forcing his wrist away as she fought to say something. But nothing came out. She looked away, her heart beginning to beat faster in her ailing chest.

…Remus had _fallen for her_…did he mean he'd loved her…

"He doesn't love me Sirius. Oh, I believed he did, at Christmas. But someone who loves someone doesn't just leave over – that – " she threw her arm in the direction of the door, whence the werewolf sound they had heard just now had come from.

"I couldn't stand it!" declared Sirius, taking her hand and pulling her round, glaring at her furiously. "When Harry told me about you and Snape...I couldn't stand it to be like Henrietta all over again…"

"How would you know, Sirius?" she demanded angrily, glaring back at him. "How would you know what Severus and I do or do not have?" Sirius looked back at Cecilia blankly.

"Would you have loved him, knowing that?" he demanded back.

Cecilia stared back indignantly at Sirius, before looking down. Her head was beginning to ache and she was growing much colder now, too tired to argue. Instead, her mind drifted to Christmas, and their time together and she pulled away from Sirius and looking down at her ripped and ragged clothes, the robes that Tonks had encouraged her to buy from Madam Emaness in Diagonalley in the summer.

"Moony," she whispered vaguely, "why didn't I guess…beautiful Remus..." her voice trailed off as it began to crack and tears rolled down her cheeks and into her lap, not caring about what she looked like.

"I spent the best four days of my life with him. I lived my life with him, shared my life with him! I told my best friend about him, and how he gave me the reason to go on…when you had given me the reason to stop. I could have loved him, Sirius, there was no question…"

"You couldn't have known how he felt," Sirius continued as she hung her head further and flooded her lap with more tears. "He was alone with his disease, outcast from all good wizard society – "

"He never took the chance to find out," she replied, looking at him quickly.

"And why did you think you deserved one? He left rather than tell you…"

"Everyone deserves a chance – " At her words he sneered, looking away mockingly.

"Yes!" she insisted.

"Even me?" Cecilia cast him a look and he returned it, a spark behind his dark eyes.

"Oh how I wish you had been a witch, Cecilia. You and I, we could have – "

"What? Have a fling? Like poor Henrietta?"

"No," he retorted unkindly, "she had a far better figure…"

Cecilia didn't reply. Instead, she looked away from Sirius, towards the door before down at her hands, considering all she had done, seen and heard that night, wondering how she could make sense of it all.

Sirius said nothing too and, getting to his feet, moved towards the window watching as flashes of light continued to burst in the sky far away…

…outside the battle raged, too close as yet to call…

…inside the Shrieking Shack deafening slience…

…time passed…

Eventually, Cecilia looked across at Sirius, staring at his prematurely aged face, wondering if he had been mulling things over, listening to the sounds of battle far away, as she had. Inhaling deeply she made some effort to turn to him. At the same time, he looked at her and held each other's gaze. Cecilia spoke first.

"I was stupid, running from my world. I thought this was somewhere to run to. But look what I ended up doing." Sirius frowned.

"What do you mean? You ran away, which was the sensible thing to do! If you had managed to get Voldermort in the way you planned, it would have been certain death – " Cecilia broke her gaze and looked guiltily down at her hands.

"You don't mean to say…" As Sirius spoke, the sound of a werewolf echoed through the passage again and Cecilia put her hand to her mouth. He was out there alone, with no-one to help him…

Sirius watched her face as her feelings for Remus Lupin passed over her face. Walking slowly over to her, he sat down beside her, looking at her intently.

"Do you love him? He could have loved you and left you, every month and not told you. Is that what you wanted?" Cecilia turned her damp eyes on the wizard and bit her lip to stop herself from crying again.

"I would not have been bothered, if that's what he needed. If only he had told me, or maybe someone else had. Severus could have told me…"

"Who listens to Severus Snape? It's very foolish indeed – "

"_I_ do...I _did_..." Cecilia glanced away before forcing herself to look at Sirius and continuing, "and I wish I had listened harder…if I had then I would have realised sooner it wasn't just about Harry. And I wouldn't have been in this mess…maybe I would have gone home each time he ordered me around or got annoyed with me…maybe my family would still be alive…maybe I never would have seen Remus become a werewolf in front of my very eyes and know that didn't make a difference to me…and, and when Severus was there for me in his own way, every time I needed him and now I know he was suffering for months because of me, and…when he told me he loved me maybe I should have gone of with him instead, for the easy life...! He took the potion Sirius! He's probably unconscious in the hospital wing right now judging by what happened to him, like before! You can call him what you like, Sirius but at the end of the day he did his best by taking the potion to save Harry…" Cecilia broke off when she realised she was now nearly shouting at Sirius, and looked away, her heart pounding furiously.

"What?" Sirius looked confused.

"He sacrificed himself, took the potion himself that he'd made himself and added Harry's match...to save Harry from taking it…" But Sirius was shaking his head.

"Snape told you he loved you?" Cecilia coughed, feeling more blood well in the back of her throat. She swallowed hastily and nodded.

"You...you, er…you don't...do you love _him_?"

Cecilia took a step towards Sirius, holding her arms in his direction, about to deny her feelings. And then she stopped and turned away again.

… the times he had been there for her; when he'd come to collect her after Christmas...how he'd listened to her and how much they had shared…he had been honest about his feelings towards muggles…honest to her about his past…

"Not in the way you mean. I care for him, love him in a way, but not the love I felt for Tim, or that I feel for Remus. He's as much as a victim here as anyone – " Sirius looked away from her in disbelief as she stared at him from by the wall.

"He made his choices!"

"We all make our choices, Sirius. Choices are who we are, we can only make the best of it after they've been made…haven't you ever made a choice that you have regretted?"

Cecilia stopped as she saw Sirius turn his head from her. Of course he had made regretful choices. None so more than herself. And in less than an hour she would have run out of time to repair some of them.

"I have no doubt that Severus made a choice or two that he has lived with his whole life. In fact the one he lives with every day that causes him pain is the revelation to Voldermort about the prophecy. It is this that drives him to redemption…"

"He is doing what he can for self peace," snorted Sirius. "Everything is for himself."

"Yes," agreed Cecilia slowly. " And you've not done anything that is purely for selfish reasons?" Sirius made to snap her a reply, but instead inclined his head and stared at her. Cecilia watched for a moment as the moonlight bounced off his hair in the darkness. Then he nodded, slowly.

"I never gave Henrietta a decent chance when I knew she was muggle born…"

"…like the joke post informing Severus of his acceptance into a secondary modern…like setting Peeves out to get him with a variety of foodstuffs…" Cecilia spoke softly, "…like tormenting him every opportunity about his family…about his father…"

Breaking off, Cecilia watched her weighty words impress heavily on Sirius and she sought the words to reply to his wordless demand to know how she knew this. Fighting the urge to sink to the floor, kept her feet firmly planted as he strode fiercely over to her.

"He told me about his family, Sirius. Even knowing about yours, I can see why he'd prefer to be in yours, and want to be like you. You should have seen it as a compliment, not a threat..."

…time was marching on…it would be over soon…Sirius needed to know…

"His father," she continued firmly, concentrating on Sirius whose face was less than six inches from her own now, "...as soon as he found out his mother was a witch he kept him from school and informed the authorities he was being educated at home. Then, when his wife left Tobias Samuel Snape kept Severus at home all day with only his mother's her old potion and spell books to remember her by, and her wand. Then, his father would come home drunk from the pub most evenings and beat seven colours of hell out of him! It's no wonder he hates muggles like he does; no wonder he's screwed up! And then he got the letter from Dumbledore about Hogwarts and never returned home until his father died mysteriously in his fourth year."

Cecilia drew breath, watching Sirius's face change into a mask of realisation, as if she, Cecilia, was revealing an otherwise unknown facet of Snape's life that was making all the difference.

"…it was in his fourth year that he returned with all sorts of dark things…" Sirius murmured the words as if recalling a long-forgotten memory. "And we joked that he had brought back a dead body in his second trunk…"

…to his face, thought Cecilia grimly. You actually said that to him, Sirius. I saw you standing with James in the Great Hall, in Snape's memory…

"…he was always a year ahead…"

"…he was researching," replied Cecilia quickly. "Knowledge and understanding was his only refuge. The techniques he adopted…it made him the researcher he is today and his methods were truly scientific…"

"You talk as if you admire him," Sirius snapped accusingly.

"I do," she replied truthfully.

"And he _told_ you this?" he continued, his tone unconvincing. Cecilia nodded, holding his stare and unconsciously stepping back towards the rough-hewn wall.

"…and then when he came to Hogwarts, somewhere that was supposed to be safe it turned out to be full of…well kids like you that like to bully. Not just bully out of defence…enjoy it…for a thrill…"

A moment passed between them and, in the privacy of their squalid incarceration Sirius murmured his agreement.

"…like how I treated you," he confirmed steadily, "when I thought you were him...he knew me…better than I knew him…" Sirius continued to take more steps towards Cecilia and she could feel the claustrophobic heat radiating from his body, "…no wonder he had it in for me when he knew I was drunk..."

"…and you did it to get a few kicks and show off to your friends…" He stared at her, saying nothing.

"God, I was awful to him!" Cecilia exhaled with relief as he moved away from her and began to stalk away from her, shouting his remorse to the four walls. "No wonder he had it in for me! No wonder he was mad when he knew I'd been drinking!" Sirius spun quickly and strode back towards Cecilia, invading again her personal space.

"Believe me; I wanted to make sure he was safe tonight…"

"Not for him," rebuked Cecilia softly, "but so that Remus didn't murder…"

And for a moment, Cecilia thought he was going to murder her; she felt his fists clench by his sides and a flash of anger passed before his eyes. Then he nodded, retreating a few steps and Cecilia sighed, slipping down the wall, giving in to the wobblyness of her legs and her growing dizzy lethargy.

"I still cannot believe your scheme." Sirius lowered himself down to the floor and sat next to her, despite Cecilia's desperate silent pleading to the contrary. "Was that always your plan? God, I wish I understood muggles," he added, looking sideways at her.

"We want what's best for those we love." Cecilia looked at Sirius, smiling wanly.

"So do wizards," he replied resentfully. "All I've ever wanted was the chance to help my godson, no matter what his fate!" He leaned towards Cecilia, his fists clenched before him in frustration. "Ever since he was born he's had some burden to face! And – I – couldn't – help him!"

His last few words were so strangled in their bitterness that Cecilia could barely understand him and she watched Sirius bow his head into his lap, clenching his fists even tighter. At length, she touched him on the shoulder gently, before touching the side of his head, her hand touching matted, sweaty locks which had become so through their evening's adventure.

"You have helped him, Sirius. When you gave me some of this. You gave him the chance because you gave me the chance." Cecilia dropped her hand quickly as if touching hot coals as Sirius jerked around to glare at her, and she looked down, feeling herself blush at her own earlier condemnation.

"You helped Harry. As you said yourself in your father's study, you wanted to be of some use…"

"And the result?" His eyes scanned her analytically as Cecilia looked back up into his eyes.

"Passable. Your family is pureblood. And as such I was able to blend the exact potion to match Harry's energy and frequency…" Her voice trailed off as Sirius continued to stare…and as Cecilia was once again drawn into their beguiling hypnotism.

"Then why the idiocy tonight?" Cecilia continued to stare at him, tears pricking her sore, painful eyes.

"Because it was the least worst result…I had to consider what the best possible outcome could be. No-one would miss me…"

"Your god-daughter," prompted Sirius. "Freya, isn't it?" Cecilia nodded, and her heart began to fill with panic.

"You said she was still alive," she gasped, looking at him intently and grabbing his robe. "Sirius, tell me what happened…"

Gently Sirius took her hand and held it as he told her. He described how Remus had found her with her mother when Bellatrix had broken into Cecilia's house; how, through her screams for her mother she had recognised Remus and allowed him to take her out of the house before Libby and Derek were murdered; how she had directed him home and described to Remus how to use the telephone to call Cecilia's mother…

"Then their deaths are my fault, Sirius," Cecilia sobbed in realisation. "I told Draco Malfoy my name was Elizabeth Mitchell…I…I never thought he'd tell his father…and then I gave her "Mysterious Mythology"…and Greyback himself said he had retrieved it…"

"…Remus checked…she was safe with your mother tonight…" Sirius's voice rang in her mind as she fought to hold back yet more tears. "And I don't see how their murders could be your fault…"

"…Libby was expecting a baby…she wanted to call him Harry, if it was a boy..." she looked up at Sirius, feeling stupid, "…oh, thank God he got her...she wouldn't shut up about him, you know. He even got included in Freya's last drawing…" She broke off, remembering the letter…the last letter…Libby had sent her, asking her when she would be bringing Remus to dinner…Cecilia had been able to tell from her tone that Freya must have pestered her about it. How she wished she had not burned it…

"You really did love him, then," Sirius concluded, letting go of her hand. "Not that I would know," he added, his voice betraying a distant edge as he looked vaguely towards the door opposite them. "I think Regulus knew I never really loved Hen, that's why he did it…"

His voice trailed off and he looked back at Cecilia, taking in her dishevelled and less than healthy appearance, her body being displayed almost indecently in very tattered and soiled wizard robes, working his way up to her face.

"...would there...was there…" he broke off again and cleared his throat, "…could there ever have been a chance...it seems stupid even to say it after all we've been through...but when I saw you at the Order meeting in July, might things have gone the other way between us…"

Cecilia said nothing, wondering whether his loss for words was genuine. She would indeed be pandering to his ego or at least to her own to tell him that, even after the deaths of his friends, his imprisonment, his misery, his bitterness, that he still had it? Would it even make any difference now?

"In my head you're exactly my type…the gorgeous, romantic hero…the one the girls adore. But Remus…" she broke off, feeling above the chronic pain that had now invaded every part of her body her love for Lupin still, "…Remus…" She looked across at Sirius, letting her one last defence down to her foe about her feelings towards his best friend, before dropping her head and looking into her lap.

"…I understand now why he left; why he looked so ill those last couple of days...why didn't he just tell me? Surely that would have been easier…" Sirius sighed and looked at her as he racked his brain to think of the best way to put it.

"You know about Greyback, Cecilia. Think how you would feel in his shoes, turning into...what he has just turned into…think about telling someone you love..." At his words, Cecilia looked up quickly, her mouth falling open in shock.

"He loves me…even now?" Her look of shock remained and a flicker of incomprehension added to it as Sirius began to laugh softly, before growing louder and louder, disturbing the dust on the beams around them.

"I already told you that!" he laughed, ignoring her expression.

"But he left me!" she exclaimed, "with a pathetic excuse for a note! He made his feelings totally clear!"

But Sirius continued to laugh, nodding in her direction as he pulled out his hitherto stowed wand. Cecilia watched as he placed it towards his temple, as she had seen McGonagall and Remus do before.

"I think it would help if you saw this," said Sirius, between waning chuckles but before she could protest however, Sirius began to pull a silvery memory from his head.

"Look," he said, pointing towards the wall in front of them. As he did so he launched his memory, like the vapour trail of an aeroplane in its direction. Cecilia watched in fascination as it wafted across the darkness of the building before settling three feet away and spreading out, its edges indistinct like a cloud.

Then, like an old black and white television, a picture filtered into view and she watched in fascination as the kitchen at Grimmauld Place wavered into view like an old 1930s film and Cecilia half expected the Pathe cockerel have appeared beforehand…

…and now, Remus came into view, he was sitting at the kitchen table reading what looked like the "Daily Prophet", his face haggard and tired. The kitchen door was closed and it acted as a backdrop to the teapot that was pouring two cups of tea, its contents steaming around it.

And now, as if the cinematographer had just fixed the sound with an Elastoplast and two paperclips, she could hear the scraping of a chair and Cecilia turned to look at Sirius. The wizard was sitting next to her, his eyes closed and his wand pointing to his head again. From it his memory was being fed, like an old reel-to-reel and she looked along its length back towards the moving image…

…and now next to Remus she saw Sirius, holding one of the cups of tea. He was looking at Remus and nodding.

"Remus, I just want to help," Cecilia heard Sirius say in his own memory. In response, Remus nodded, and put down the newspaper before, to Cecilia's dismay, held his head in his hands.

"It can't be any harder than this. Sirius," Remus looked up at his friend, his arms held out as if pleading with him, "if I had known the last time I saw her would be the last time, I... I would have stopped to memorise her face, the way she moves, everything about her…if I had known the last time I kissed her would have been the last time... I never would have stopped…"

"Then tell her." Remus was looking at Sirius as if he had just said something outrageous and he shook his head.

"It's out of the question. This heart of mine could not bear another wound. And she would turn me down; you said as much yourself. No-one in our world would have a relationship with a werewolf, let alone a muggle. And besides my friend, I know what you think of her – "

"No you don't," said Sirius, "you don't Remus. If she feels the same way, then she will not care." But to Sirius's insistent logic Cecilia watched as Remus Lupin merely leaned back in his chair and shake his head.

"It's asking too much of her to accept me," he concluded sadly…

And as quickly as it had appeared, the picture faded, leaving nothing except a dark wooden wall where it had been. Cecilia turned quickly to Sirius, who was looking at her sadly.

"I must confess that it was my fault. I believed that because you'd rejected me, you'd reject him and I could not bear that. I was jealous of you, Cecilia! It's hard for me to admit, even more so now after what you were trying to do tonight. There I was, stuck in my intolerable parents' house when someone like you with no magical ability, was out here, sorting it all out for us!"

Cecilia continued to stare at Sirius as he got to his feet and began to pace across to where his memory had come to life a few moments ago and she watched him in silence, trying to piece together the information she had just seen and heard…

…Remus loved her…?

"…and against the odds, you took this all on." Sirius continued to pace, his tempo of voice matching his gait. "I still can't believe that Dumbledore let you…and you coped with the things you faced…"

…Sirius was _jealous_ of her…?

"…and there I was, hidden away so the Ministry wouldn't find me, left to hear about how marvellous you were, and how you were going to be Harry's salvation…"

As he got into his stride, as the bitter floodgates opened, Cecilia shuffled and turned away from him. How long before she died, she wondered vaguely; how long before her cells broke open causing tissues to fail causing organs to cease functioning…? How long until the biochemical reactions taking place in her ordinary magicless body ceased to have a pathway…?

It was happening already; already her feet and hands felt like ice, her circulation was diminishing. Already her body felt as if her blood was molten rock, coursing through her body, her nerves feeling prickly and oversensed and her brain, it seemed was being pared away layer by layer…

"…couldn't do anything to save Henrietta," Sirius was now staring at her, as if waiting for a response. Cecilia looked at him and forced a smile.

"She seemed like a lovely girl, from what I could tell."

"She was wonderful…" Sirius knelt beside her, his eyes glazing over as if recalling her loveliness. "…I didn't love her, I never did. She was in love with me, or thought she was. I broke her heart…and she chose to live a muggle life...such a waste…" He glanced at Cecilia, who found herself nodding.

"Nothing wrong with the muggle life," she qualified quickly.

"…we continued to go out when she went to live with her muggle aunt. She got a job working in an office," Sirius continued, "it was so far beneath her; she could have been an Auror! She had talent! And then she decided to do it officially…"

Cecilia nodded again, recalling Remus's memory, when Lily had told her about Harry. She looked at Sirius, the expression on his face revealing an inner desperation; regret, Cecilia knew, for things that he could not change.

"Then we began to have rows because I couldn't accept her, and one day I flipped and declared her misborn. I never saw her again. But then she met Regulus looking like me…and, well…you know the rest. But Sirius went to find her, like at school."

…so he _had_ gone to find her, not to turn her over…

"You didn't kill her, Sirius," said Cecilia, looking at him empathetically.

"No? I did not put my hands to her but I'm the reason that she's dead…twenty two…it's no age…" Sirius turned away from Cecilia and she was sure that she had glimpsed a tear sparkle in his eye.

"Her life had been in danger since our third year when she followed us out of the castle. Snape saw her and followed her. If he hadn't diverted Remus he would have killed her. And it was a lucky escape for him too; Remus chased him up into the Whomping Willow…oh, how we laughed," he added bitterly, looking back at Cecilia.

"It was from then on he worked on the wolfsbane potion, making it perfect for him. Apparently something to do with each wizard being slightly different which had made the batch he'd taken that night weaker than usual…"

"…genetics," Cecilia murmured, thinking about Snape's approach to the research. So he had known about genes…differences, just by another name…

She turned her head away and looked at the foot of the piano. Her head was throbbing now, like the worst hangover, her chest felt as if the very air in the shack was caustic and she could not stop the hot tears that the agony was causing her from coursing down her cheeks.

As the wave of tortuous agony washed away, she realised that Sirius was touching her shoulders and she looked at him angrily.

"Don't," she said, shuffling out of his grip and gesturing towards the door. "Can we get out of her yet?" 

"Until the moon sets, that would be suicide," snapped back Sirius, getting to his feet. "Like you were attempting tonight…"

"Yes," replied Cecilia, her voice fainter and choked. "Suicide. I planned on never coming back, Sirius. It was for the best…"

"Why?" Sirius moved in front of her, his face a mask of shock. "That sounds like defeatist talk…"

"Yes," agreed Cecilia, nodding slowly. "Everything I had to live for had gone. The best I could hope was that the people who I was supposed to be working for could be saved." She looked away. Even to her, it sounded martyr-like, and stupid.

"…you were going to give up your own life for us…" Cecilia nodded.

"But even that I managed to mess up. You were right, Sirius. Not about muggles being stupid, but I am…" She raised her hand defensively as Sirius approached her, as if to comfort her. "Just…leave me alone," she added sharply and he nodded in acquiescence.

"I suppose you are within your rights to say that after how I treated you," he added, getting to his feet and Cecilia watched as he moved towards the window, looking out of it…

…more time passed…

And now, with supreme effort Cecilia dragged herself to her feet and stood to her full height. Nothing could describe the pain she was feeling now, only that her will was coming from her realisation that there were not many minutes of her life left.

"I love him, Sirius," Cecilia declared, forcing her head to look at him. "I love him still. I would have accepted him, I wish he'd have told me and given me the chance…" she trailed off as Sirius approached her, taking in her more feeble appearance and, as her knees buckled he caught her just in time, allowing her to rest against the dusty floor again, looking her up and down as she coughed again and she pushed him away forcefully.

"I could have learned how to make wolfsbane," Cecilia added, swallowing the fluid that she knew would contain blood. "I – "

"Hush now," he chided as Cecilia fought to retain their distance. He must not know she was dying she told herself as the sensation of her blood haemorrhaging her arteries hit her like a wave. But Sirius had refused to be swayed from the topic of her health.

"We can only wait until the morning, and then you can tell him yourself. You must rest," he added, trying to get closer to her, "stop pretending now…" But Cecilia pushed him away again, glaring as defensively as she could. If he realised she was dying, then he might do something stupid. She needed to be in control now…at the end…

Grudgingly, Sirius leaned against the wall of the shack and watched her pull herself to a sitting position.

"You know, we could have been friends," sighed Cecilia wearily. "We could have been such good friends, Sirius. But it was never meant to be...your lives…all of you together, you marauders," she laughed at their nickname, "each like a ruined portrait...so much potential…there…"

Carefully Cecilia turned herself away from Sirius, looking at the wall where she had seen Remus declare his love for her.

"Why didn't he tell me, Sirius?"

"If he had," Sirius replied quietly, turning his head that he had rested against the wall of the shack in her direction, "I'm sure you'd have handled it like you always do: pragmatically, sensibly, rationally, logically, practically…all those things I'm not Cecilia…all those things I found all so maddeningly sexy about you…" Shocked, Cecilia turned to face Sirius, trying to hold back a blood-filled cough.

"…if only you'd been a witch...just couldn't accept you as a muggle..."

"Is that what you think I am like?" she whispered, leaning her head towards him. "Well, you don't see the feet paddling under the water at a million miles then…"

The conversation stopped and her mind filled with images of Remus, sitting at her breakfast table when they'd shared orange juice and toast...her mind drifting to his face falling grave and him asking her to listen to him admit to his illness…her looking shocked, but then assuring him that it wouldn't have mattered…

…Cecilia glanced towards the door…it wouldn't have mattered…she'd love him whatever shape he was in. He was still her Remus…

…then she looked at Sirius in the half-light...she pitied him...Sirius had never loved a woman...

Cecilia realised that he was staring back at her and she fought her mind to think of something to say.

"Why didn't he give me a chance, Sirius? We both would have had have our monthly problems together, then…" She saw a shadow of guilt pass over his face and he leaned forward and shuffled closer to her again.

"I told Remus that you and Snape were…I thought you were delaying the potion deliberately…Remus wouldn't have it, kept insisting, you were doing it for the Order." Cecilia said nothing and she waited for him to continue. There was a pause before Sirius swallowed; clearly what he wanted to say was difficult.

"…then you came to the ball with Snape after Harry had seen Snape kiss you when you were asleep…" he broke off and laughed briefly, "damn near broke Ron's heart, you know…" From his approach she realised that Sirius expected her to be angry with him but instead she began to laugh too.

"Poor Hermione," she giggled, looking at Sirius's confused face. "She'll be heartbroken…"

"Apparently not; Hermione fancies me, apparently..." Cecilia shook her head, a glimmer of life returning to her with her mirth.

"No, not Hermione...Ginny..."

"I was under the impression she fancied Harry…" Cecilia raised her eyebrows.

"…maybe its changed..."

"…or both…"

"…young love..." commented Sirius. "All so very complicated…" Cecilia frowned.

"Hang on, Harry fancies Tonks…" At her comment, Sirius rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Bloody hell, we make a fine lot, don't we? You do know Tonks got Harry to tear the pages from Remus's book, don't you?" Cecilia shot him a look.

"Why?"

"Because she didn't what you to find out what you found out tonight, of course," he said, as if it should have been obvious. "Tonks knew something was up with him and – "

" – thought it was Lily," finished Cecilia. Of course. It made perfect sense.

"And tonight, Tonks tells me she has got together with a muggle," he added, glancing sideways at Cecilia. "A strange old world…" She nodded in agreement

…a world that was soon to become a happier place, she told herself regretfully, it was just a shame she wouldn't be around to see it...

"Well," said Sirius, getting to his feet and walked over to the window again. "The battle will soon be over. We'll see if your near perfect potion works…you stay where you are…it'll soon be morning and I can get you to Poppy," he added, as Cecilia coughed again. She nodded quickly.

"I'm sorry about Harry," said Cecilia quietly. Sirius glanced from the window and nodded briefly.

"Look," he replied dismissively, "I knew Dumbledore was planning something to do with Harry anyway and Harry wouldn't have listened to me anyway. If it hadn't been you, it would have been another muggle. I made you the scapegoat for my fears for him and I'm sorry about that. Lucky I found you tonight; at least Poppy can put you back together, as well as whatever the potion of yours has done to Harry…you rest," he added.

As Sirius turned towards the window again, Cecilia smiled victoriously in the darkness, as her heart hammered against her ribs and iciness crept over her skin. Curling up into a ball, she threw her thoughts silently in his direction…

…I've won now, Black, she thought triumphantly. The potion will have worked as predicted and Harry will have suffered no ill effects…the Aurors will have arrested what remains of the Death Eaters…

…she closed her eyes and barely noticed when, a few minutes later, Sirius sat down next to her and draped his cloak over her presumed-sleeping form. Cecilia moved uncomfortably against it, and shuffled away from it.

"You're like ice," she heard Sirius say, and Cecilia realised he was holding her hand. "You really put yourself through the mill tonight," he added.

"Well, if you want to put me out of my misery…you can just say that I died of my injuries and there was nothing you could do…" Cecilia pulled her hand away from Sirius and tried to back away.

"No, that's not what I want, bloody hell, is that what you think…?" He cut off, looking at her confused. "I need to see you better to you can prove to my friend that you mean what you said. That you'd love him no matter what! My word, Cecilia…" his voice trailed off. Cecilia forced a smile as he continued, "why do you think I wanted to get this off my chest? Remus, before we got here said, that what ever happened tonight, regardless of whether we captured Voldermort, or how we did in the war, the thing he would most regret, if it were the end, was never seeing you again. Even at school he never went for girls, he left it to me and James and watched for the sidelines. Lily, however, cared for him, and I think he loved her for the kindness she showed him, but that was the closest he got. When he told me he was going to ask Tonks to marry him when time was right I was overjoyed, but she changed as soon as she saw him with you…" Sirius leaned back and exhaled, before glancing at her. "...anyway, I can't see how you didn't you figure that one out. You're supposed to be the genius..."

"When you got to Grimamuld Place, saw how he looked at you…but then you reminded me so much of her...I was drunk, pissed out of my head... I saw you as Henrietta and I didn't want him to get hurt again. I thought if I could seduce you, it might end like Henrietta and problem solved…but after what you did tonight, what you planned to do…headstrong and independent...not like the girls who fawned round me at school...you are so brave Cecilia, and beautiful too…"

Sirius stopped, looking at Cecilia and through her dimming eyes she thought she saw a flash of regret. She turned he head to look at him, leaning once more against the wall.

"Well if it's time for confessions Sirius," she replied quietly "then it's only fair to admit that I was taken with you – " she broke off, coughing hard, blood dribbling down her chin, "I never forgot that kiss Sirius Black, when you showed me to Hogwarts on my birthday...when I'm gone..."

Cecilia broke off; her head was light and the dimness of the room seemed to be moving at a dizzying speed and she coughed again, this time turning away from Sirius.

But this time, the game was up. Sirius looked across at her and realised that all was not as she had pretended it to be…

"...Cecilia…?"

Moving next to her, she allowed him to roll her into his arms and she looked once again into his dark, mysterious eyes.

"…when I'm gone please …tell Remus…"

Sirius looked her up and down as she spoke, shaking his head in disbelief, before meeting her eyes again.

"…tell Remus," she insisted with all the strength she could manage, "…it would have been good…"

"…Cecilia? No… hold on…" Panic coursed through his voice as he sought the best course of action, and Cecilia coughed again, closing her eyes…

"No! Don't give up…listen to me…" But his voice lapped over her like a wave as she felt the warmth ebb away, his words like a buzz, just on the cusp of hearing, dissipating round her.

Cecilia did not register Sirius pull her closer, searching desperately for something to abate her demise. She did not notice him hold her body close trying to warm her body with his as it lost heat, stroking her hair as consciousness slipped away…

…the world faded around Cecilia as she let go her, giving in to the calm, almost serene darkness as it enveloped her...

88888888


	25. As One Door Closes

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

88888888

And now the game was over, both sides decimated by exhaustion, scattered over the board in unfathomable entropy. Dawn broke over the Northumbrian landscape whereupon the castle of Hogwarts stood proud. But, which side has won? What are the losses? What is the verdict?

The observer has a deal of a job now to work out exactly what is now going on for there are many wizards walking around, talking to one another, pointing, writing and scurrying off. These are the victors of this battle who are now undertaking the tedious task of accountancy.

But be under no illusion, the triumph has not been without sacrifice; those heralding a glorious victory are in addition, nursing the wounds of loss.

And as one wizard approached another, pointing to a piece of parchment that another had given him a third silenced them all by pointing ahead. To one of their number stumbling into view holding in his arms a body…

88888888

Sirius Black staggered through the tunnel that led from the Shrieking Shack with Cecilia Frobisher in his arms, down from the hillock where the Whomping Willow stood before making his way determinedly towards the plain of battle.

The first to notice him walking towards them was Bertie Griffin, who pointed his presence out to Arthur Weasley, both of whom withdrew their wands: too many Death Eaters had escaped that night to risk the unchallenged approach of a mysterious figure through the early morning misty rain.

"Sirius!" declared Arthur, when they recognised him and he looked in horror at Cecilia's ashen-skinned features. "What happened?!"

"I have to get her to Poppy," he said quickly, striding past them. "There's a chance that she may still alive."

In his wake came other wizards of the Order, following Sirius up through the gates and into the courtyard of the deserted castle; the students and staff had been evacuated home by Aurors from the Ministry the night before and Sirius clung tighter to Cecilia's body ignoring the many calls for explanation by more wizards as he strode purposefully through the main doors of the school and up the wide staircase.

They had gained quite a following by the time Sirius had reached the hospital wing; the sight of one of the Order's more controversial members carrying the lifeless body of the muggle member he once attempted to kill was of far more interest than wondering which of the five sightings of Voldermort they should follow up.

And more of a scene unfolded as Sirius marched towards Madam Pomfrey who, after indicating where he could place Cecilia's body declared that she was beyond her help.

"But she is alive!" Sirius rounded the bed at the far end of the hospital upon which he had laid Cecilia gently. "You have to do something Poppy!" The crowd of Order members had grown now, taking in Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Professor McGonagall.

"…take her to St. Mungo's…"

"…probably to fragile to move…"

"There's nothing I can do with a muggle!" reaffirmed Poppy, who looked distinctly harassed by the invasion of her hospital. She looked over at Cecilia again; took in her ghastly features and filthy appearance, her blood-spattered face, ragged clothes and torn skin, shaking her head in emphasis. Around them the wizards murmured amongst themselves as she looked her over critically.

"Does Dumbledore know about this?" Arthur Weasley, looking around the wizards, almost a dozen in total.

"He's at the Ministry," began Bertie, glancing at Kingsley.

"I can floo him," replied Kingsley Shacklebolt, "he'll need to know that she's – "

"That she's what?" Sirius turned on Shacklebolt quickly. "Dead? Because she's not…" He trailed off as he felt Poppy's hand on his arm.

"Tell me in detail, Sirius. How did she gain these injuries?" Sirius turned from the crowd and looked at Poppy, agitatedly and the nurse waited for a response.

"What?" he said, confused. 

"You say she's still alive…it would be useful to know. And – " She turned at the ever-growing congregation, "it would be useful if _you_ were to leave me to it."

"Madam Pomfrey, we could." Alastor Moody shuffled closer to Cecilia, scrutinising her with his mad eye before looking at the healer. "But seeing as we all saw her face Voldermort, in the guise of Snape, I should add – "

" – which means she must have taken polyjuice potion – " another wizard at the back chipped in. Alastor shot the interrupter a look before looking back at the nurse.

"…and before that, the Cruciatus curse…" said someone else.

"…she didn't look well the last time I saw her, neiver…"

"She disguised herself as Snape and faced Voldermort," Sirius looked at Madam Pomfrey and then back to Cecilia urgently. "A _potion_. And – "

"…probably stress from teaching those children of ours; bloody stupid to ask someone like her to take on a classful of them with everything else she had to do…"

"Okay, okay stop." Poppy Pomfrey held up her hands in desperation and she straightened her cap and smoothed her apron in an attempt to convey a more professional air. "Will one of you just give me the facts? Please?" She turned to Sirius.

"You brought her here, Sirius. I understand that she took polyjuice potion and faced V – _Voldermort_. And that she was tortured. Anything else?"

The hospital wing went quiet as the wizards listened raptly to Sirius Black tell the tale of the last eight hours in Cecilia Frobisher's company.

"…and that's when I brought her here, Poppy," he concluded, noting the look of paling horror on the witch's face. Then Sirius looked back at Cecilia as Poppy began to shake her head.

"I…I have to admit, I don't know how to treat her." Poppy cast her gaze upon Cecilia again as stronger early morning rays beamed in through the stained glass of the hospital wing. "My only hope will be to make her comfortable once I've examined her. Now, if you'll all excuse me – "

"Make her comfortable?!" Sirius snapped back furiously, but Arthur Weasley put a hand on his shoulder and he stopped his would-be advance, looking round at him. Madam Pomfrey nodded firmly.

"All we can do it wait – "

" – like the last time." All eyes turned to the wizard who had spoken behind them and the wizards parted like a shoal of fish as he hobbled towards them. Even severely injured Severus Snape looked formidable and he advanced on Sirius hotly.

"What did you do this time, Black? How is it that you brought her here like that and that she is now lying there – " he made to move his arm in her direction but Sturgis Podmore stepped in front of Snape as he wobbled back and forth before seizing the bedframe and gripping on tightly. As he did so, his gaze lingered on Cecilia for perhaps a second longer than was necessary to assess her injuries.

"Don't be hasty, Severus," Podmore began. But Sirius had turned and began to bear down on him.

"These injuries, Snape, were caused by her taking a potion. Do you know what she tried to do?" Mutely, Snape shook his head.

"I'll enlighten you. She took _polyjuice potion_ and became _you_ and then once you'd scarpered last night and she faced Voldermort on her own – " Sirius broke off as he looked with relish on Snape's confused features but before he could continue, Madam Pomfrey interrupted.

"Enough! There has been enough. Severus," she turned to look at Snape, who was still holding the end of the bedframe. "Return to your bed; you are still far from well. Gentlemen, and…ladies," she nodded towards the watching crowd, acknowledging Minerva McGonagall Elspet Banks who was straining to see at the back. "I need to examine my patient, for you believe Sirius," she turned to face him, "that I can still save her life. Now," she surveyed the wizards as one, "if I am to do that I need to examine her alone."

Folding her arms to underline her insistence, she glared at the audience who began to back in towards the door; Sturgis Podmore holding out his arm to assist Snape back to his bed around the corner of the hospital wing until finally all had left the nurse with her patient. Well, nearly all.

"You too, Sirius," Poppy added, looking along his line of sight to where he was staring. "You did the right thing, you brought her here."

"Poppy, what can I do? What could I have done? She refused to tell me anything…" Madam Pomfrey held up a hand and shook her head sadly.

"I will tell you this now Sirius; if she has suffered the Cruciatus curse then she will more than likely have severe internal injuries. Which will mean it is unlikely she will awaken…" Sirius looked at her aghast.

"But…she recovered before…" his voice trailed off as the nurse nodded slowly.

"I know, and she was lucky to have done so. But I'm afraid," she continued, looking sadly at Cecilia's immobile form, "you would have been too late in any case. She took polyjuice potion of her own free will; she knew what she was doing. Even without the spell injuries I don't think there's much you could have done that would have made a difference…"

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Four days after the Great Battle, as it was being dubbed, the still-deserted castle was playing host to the Order of the Phoenix while they continued in their work, in collaboration with the Ministry of Magic, with the specific objective of capturing Voldermort and the rest of the Death Eaters.

Inside its cold walls or, more specifically the common rooms the members of the Order who had elected to remain buzzed to and fro between the grounds of the castle and the Great Hall (where temporary desks had replaced the long house benches) and, when evenings came, to the Gryffindor common room.

Underneath an invisibility cloak which, it has to be said, has seen a lot of action since it has come into Harry's possession as a first year, three student wizards huddled close together. One of them pressed his ear against the door in order to catch as much of the meeting that was being held by the remnants of the Order of the Phoenix.

Hermione shifted further forward, trying not to stand on Ron's foot and handed Harry what looked like some flesh-coloured string, nudging him to gain his attention as he craned his head towards the door.

"Thanks," he whispered, before placing one end into left ear and trained it on the conversation in the Great Hall again before handing two other extensions to Ron and Hermione. Inside, Dumbledore was chairing the meeting, the first since the Battle and, having informed the Order of the role of the Ministry in the hunt for Voldermort was now allowing for others to speak, adding to the information already supplied.

Around him sat wizards in various stages of health. Sturgis Podmore was nursing a swollen ankle and sported a large bandage round his head; Kingsley Shacklebolt looked on, quill shaking whilst taking minutes; a spell had damaged his nerves and he was having trouble controlling the quill as it looped the information which had been discussed jerkily onto the parchment. Adjacent sat Mr Weasley, his leg covered in a bandage and his left arm in a sling, and was looking every so often over Kingsley's shoulder.

"Now that we have discussed the Ministry's role may I be the first congratulate us all on our outstanding achievement last week as I open our first meeting outside Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore surveyed the wizards, who were grouped around on chairs near the centre of the Great Hall, looking at each one in turn and nodding before continuing. Many of the Order looked at one another, confused. One or two began to clap; applause which broke off almost as soon as it had begun.

"Apologies Kingsley, for Elphias Dode, who is recovering in St. Mungo's from a rebounding stun performed at point blank range; to Remus Lupin who is otherwise engaged on Order business and Severus Snape, who is still recovering in the hospital wing."

The wizards amongst them exchanged glances before looking back at Dumbledore, waiting anxiously. They had not been expecting a meeting yet for there had been no clear leads and nothing, as far as they were able to ascertain, had brought them any closer. As it stood, the information had been patchy and some did not fit or make sense.

"I expect you are all wondering why I have organised this meeting this afternoon when I realise we have nothing solid as yet to work on." Mrs Weasley nudged her husband swiftly in the side and one or two others opened their eyes in surprise. Even Minerva McGonagall looked slightly taken aback.

"My objectives are clear: I wish us to clear up misunderstandings that may be clouding our work with the hoped-for outcome that Lord Voldermort will be captured in his weakened state and brought to justice." Stroking his beard into a point, he glanced at Minerva McGonagall and nodded, and she got to her feet and approached Dumbledore, standing next to him as the wizard sat down on a large wooden chair that stood before them.

Professor McGonagall sounded a little nervous when she began to speak; this was the first time that the three students eavesdropping the conversation had ever heard a tremor in her voice and behind the thick wooden doors Hermione shuddered.

"The Battle was long and we, that is to say us, we suffered at the hands of our enemy. In the end victory was ours and with the help of further Aurors from the Ministry we were able to capture and send for imprisonment eighteen Death Eaters. Seven were killed in the course of the night and the remaining five are still at large." She glanced at the scratching quill that Kingsley Shacklebolt was guiding carefully.

"Yes, Molly?" Dumbledore looked at Mrs Weasley's raised hand, raising his eyebrows and nodding and Molly glanced around nervously.

"That's the same number as we lost, isn't it?" Around her there were shuffles and whispers, and nods of confirmation.

"Indeed. We lost seven of our number." Dumbledore looked deliberately at each member as he spoke.

"Seven good wizards whose lives we will give meaning to with our new mission!" Bertie Griffin got to his feet unsteadily, his high-pitched voice ringing out around the Great Hall. At his hearty declaration the people around him began to murmur their agreement, nodding and whispering; many were shocked to see Minerva so visibly un-nerved and she looked across to Dumbledore. The great wizard returned her look and nodded slightly before rising to his feet. As he did so Minerva sat hastily back down.

"The spell acted as it did for Harry when he faced Voldermort as a baby. In conjunction with the potion, the effect was a replica of Lily Potter's motherly love for her son at the time when he needed her most of all. Voldermort was very much damaged by the spell, more so than sixteen years ago but he is not gone."

Under the invisibility cloak Ron nudged Harry. But he needn't have; Harry was only too clear about what he had just learned. In his heart of hearts he knew that he would know when Voldermort was gone and that little part of him that he shared with the terrible wizard was very much alive.

"I'll be frank, fellow wizards, if Cecilia had not put her life on the line his severe debilitation would not have come about. Voldermort escaped, however he was incapacitated by the potion she made. I believe her actions were a result of our demands that the potion be rushed to meet our timescale." Sturgis Podmore raised a hand and Dumbledore nodded in his direction and the wizard smiled round the group.

"Is there any news of her Dumbledore…Minerva? Of Cecilia Frobisher?" He looked between them questioningly. Minerva rose to her feet again slowly.

"I took the liberty of speaking to Poppy Pomfrey before tonight's meeting. Cecilia Frobisher has been unconscious for five days with no sign of any improvement. In her professional opinion Madam Pomfrey believes that we might have to admit she will never come to."

"We need to inform her family!" Sirius got to his feet and loudly addressed the Order but Sturgis glanced at him before looking again at Minerva McGonagall.

"Can she be specific about Cecilia's injuries, Minerva?" The witch nodded her head.

"The potions she took, the polyjuice, which had been modified to extend its efficacy – "

– Hermione gasped sharply making Ron jump. He looked at her quickly before rubbing her arm soothingly –

" – and the Veritaserum that we witnessed Lucius Malfoy force upon her, in the appearance of Severus. Both have had adverse effects upon her health causing the unconscious state in which she is now. However it was the internal injuries that she suffered physically at the hands of the Voldermort which has exacerbated the damage to her body tissue."

"But…she survived last time," said Bathsheba, in a slow, high-pitched voice, and some eyes fell uncertainly on Sirius. "Isn't she likely to survive this time?" Minerva shook her head as a low undercurrent of noise began. She waited until it had died down.

"Poppy believes the polyjuice potion acted as a slow-releasing toxin, destroying her internal organs and in addition, the torture at the hands of the Death Eaters…" she glanced quickly at Sirius who was now holding his head in his hands.

"Was this fate likely to have happened to Harry? He took the potion, after all." Kingsley Shacklebolt raised his hand to indicate that he was now contributing.

Harry held his breath. He felt fine now, and even then, after taking it. The battle had been ferocious, much worse than he had imagined and he had even fought a few Death Eaters before being elbowed out of the way and to the back of the advancing Order, finally being taken to the hospital by Minerva McGonagall, spending the night there under the relentless care from Madam Pomfrey, being asked questions and poked and prodded before being unceremoniously released in the morning when his bed was required for the vast array of injuries being sported by many of the Order.

"It would seem that by Cecilia's act of self-sacrifice was designed to prevent Harry from taking it. He has succumbed to few ill effects however his aim is somewhat off and spells he has subsequently tried to perform have been affected adversely – "

Outside the Harry nodded in confirmation at Hermione and Ron who were staring at him demandingly. Indeed, it seemed that any spells he cast had now taken on a life of their own, the most interesting of which had been a refracted "Accio" charm which had resulted in Percy Weasley flying over the banister of a first floor staircase almost landing on top of him and chaotically unfiling the Order's sighting reports that he – Percy – had spent three hours previously filing and cross-referencing, but this had improved dramatically as the week wore on.

" – however it would seem at present that there is no reason why these effects should be permanent." Minerva folded her arms to indicate that was all se was prepared to say on the subject and sat down hastily.

"Then can we suppose that if she had had time to complete the potion using Lily's DNA to its fullest effects the potion would have been perfect?"

This time Sirius got to his feet and turned to Kingsley, his expression less forthright than it had been earlier that evening. All the Order were looking at him now, including McGonagall and Dumbledore.

He had barely spoken to anyone on the subject of Cecilia Frobisher since he had brought her to the hospital wing early that Sunday morning, ignoring calls for information and issuing rude rebukes when challenged. Whatever he had to say everyone was sure it would be significant.

"Time was not what she needed. It would seem she didn't take the sample from Godric's Hollow. Cecilia informed me of this before she d – " one or two of the wizards staring avidly at him widened their eyes in anticipation, " – before she became unconscious. Therefore she _chose_ to carry on without it, thus acceding to our request."

For a few moments, both within the Great Hall and without, silence took on a new meaning. Not only were particles of matter around them immobile, they began to shrink in a kind of anti-silence in response to the bombshell, as if to anticipate and accommodate the unavoidable shift in understanding.

"She planned it!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley in horror, breaking the silence loudly. "She _intended_ to give up her life…we must have treated her so badly she thought there was no other way…!" She turned to her husband, raising her hand to her mouth and Arthur hugged her close in comfort as around them the rest of the Order began to speak.

"…no, Molly…"

"…she did not think that..."

"…not all of us treated her badly…"

"I should have told someone," whispered Hermione urgently to Ron, as Harry continued to stare at the wall in fixed concentration on the conversation they were hearing. "When she told me how she was feeling! I could have helped! I could have told someone about the notebooks and they would have read them and known…!"

Molly looked up to Arthur, tears in her eyes and added, "…and now she won't ever know how brave we think she was!"

"…yes, that is certainly true…"

"…a tragic end for the muggle…"

"…just like Feaodor the Ferocious in the Middle Ages…"

Hermione looked at Ron, giving him the same horrified look that Mrs Weasley was giving Mr Weasley.

"They're talking like she's dead!" she whispered, her voice choking up and Ron took her hand.

"She's not," he began reassuringly but Hermione opened her eyes wider in astonishment.

"How can you say that?! You've seen her; we all have! She looks like Cedric looked when Harry brought him back last year!"

"Shhh!" Ron instructed urgently, nodding towards Harry as he turned from his concentrated eavesdropping.

"Well _you_ were the one who said it," said Hermione accusingly, but her tone was cut with emotion and this time Harry touched her shoulder comfortingly before jumping to alertness again as they heard Dumbledore's voice.

"Alas, it would appear so. She fought exceedingly well and with fierce bravery. As did we all here, the results speak for themselves." He surveyed the members slowly who were now back in their seats listening to the head of their Order address them with fond solemnity.

"Nearly all of the Death Eaters are behind bars at Azkaban, many sporting injuries better than your own. Indeed, Remus Lupin took a great big bite out of Lucius's leg…"

"Bravo!" shouted someone from the back of the group.

"…and I do not believe that Barnaby Wellington will be able to participate in the many sporting events which require the use of his wand arm." At this there was a round of applause; some were on their feet and cheering.

"May I ask, Dumbledore, where is Remus this evening?" The question came from Dumbledore's left from an elderly Order member who had initially opposed Cecilia's joining of the Order.

"Ah, Agnathea," replied Dumbledore casting a serene look on the owner of the Apocethary in Diagonalley, Miss Boutes. "Indeed, indeed." He took his gaze over the whole Order again as hush descended. Agnathea Boutes had reminded them of Remus Lupin's absence and it was beginning to unnerve a few of them.

"This brings me to the most vital piece of information that information I need to share with you all which makes pertinent the information that Cecilia Frobisher managed to acquire and share with us before Christmas, both regarding the potion and the history thus associated." He glanced around the group again. One or two were exchanging worried glances.

"I have the permission of Remus Lupin to share his role in the business with the Order. I ask you to excuse my repetition if you are already aware of some of this information but I wish you to all be fully aware of this which I should, in truth, have shared with you six months ago. It is time, witches and wizards, to allow it to be exposed in the open. It must be a secret no longer."

For a good few minutes the silence was deafening. The wizards, as a man, said nothing but shuffled on the assembled bench looking at Dumbledore and waiting for him to speak.

"The Reciprocator movement, as founded by pure blood wizards in the eighteenth century, has survived – illegally – for the past two hundred years. Raymond Lully, whose work was so prominent during the twentieth century and was murdered at the goblin riots in 1956, was almost the last of the movement to collaborate with muggles in projects for our mutual benefit. His mistake, which led to the involvement of Voldermort, was to recruit Oswald Avery, who as we know, one of his first followers, also a Death Eater whose son Voldermort murdered before the battle."

There was mutters amongst the Order; Avery's notoriety as the cause of the goblin riots was huge and it was well known that Avery junior had followed in his father's footsteps.

"Lully appointed him to the research of genetics in the 1930s however his trust was betrayed, and when he realised this he hid the work of all the Reciprocators with his best friend." Dumbledore saw a hand raised and he nodded to Charlie Weasley who appeared to be shaking; his dragon-tooth earring oscillating slightly as he looked at Dumbledore.

"So his work was lost?" Charlie raised his hand automatically. "All of the Reciprocators' work?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"Lost? Not at all, Charlie. We all know of "Mysterious Mythology"; indeed there is scarcely a wizard household that had that as a staple story book nor a wizard who has been entertained by its tales. However a copy that contained the most recent and pertinent work was that entrusted to John Lupin, a few weeks before Lully died." There was a mumble which grew rapidly from the Order. Dumbledore raised his hands for quiet.

"His son, Remus Lupin, has consented for me to share this information with us, not least due to his incapacity for his condition."

As he spoke, Dumbledore withdrew his wand, allowing a stream of silvery light to emanate from its tip. Like Sirius's memory which he had showed Cecilia in the darkness of the Shrieking Shack, this wisp formed itself into the shape of a screen, larger than that of Sirius's and the wizards turned to face it, knowing that a memory would shortly be replayed for them from Dumbledore's mind.

Without warning, Remus's face flickered into view. He appeared to be sitting in Grimmauld Place, at the kitchen table again, is face tired and worn. Dumbledore said nothing and allowed the Order to view the memory.

"I remember when I became a werewolf," said Remus, speaking to Dumbledore as if he was speaking to a video camera. "And now I will tell you all now about Raymond Lully, and how my family is involved." He swallowed carefully and the pause in his monologue prompted many of the Order to wonder whether he was swallowing down deep-seated emotion.

"I was eight and my father had just finished reading to me Gimelda. I fell asleep with the book I my arms as I always did. Father had promised to keep it safe for Lully but he indulged me, retrieving the book from my room later. One night he entered and Fenrir Greyback was in my room – " Remus broke off. This time he definitely was holding onto emotion; the strain on his face to maintain composure was almost too much for a some of the Order to bear and one or two wizards had turned away rather than watch.

"…Greyback growled at me to hand over the book but I refused; I was defending it for Father. The clouds changed and transformed. Then he bit me, but still I would not release the book. Father came in and saw him off…"

Remus trailed off and looked to the floor, his unkempt hair visible to all and for the fourth time that evening shocked silence reigned as Dumbledore redirected the fading silver stream of memory back towards his head.

The children under the invisibility cloak looked at one another aghast. Though they had not seen Remus in the memory they had heard what he had said, and the information Dumbledore had imparted before. Not knowing what to say to one another they re-inserted their extendable ears and continued to listen.

"So, you are saying that the information contained specifically in Remus Lupin's father's copy of Mysterious Mythology contained the information needed by Cecilia to form the basis of the Universal Link? And you needed a scientist from the muggle world to sort out the important facts before we made the potion for Harry?"

As one, the Order turned to member on the second bench, mouths fell open in awe. Dumbledore smiled serenely.

"I always knew you were a very perceptive student, Tobias," he nodded towards the thin, pale-haired Auror close to the back. "Your succinct summary is indeed the point I was looking to make, and exactly the reason that I wrote on your school leaving report that any future employer would be barking mad not to employ you over any other applicant." The member Tobias blushed heavily, recalling Cornelius Fudge picking up on this at his interview for a position of Ministry Auror. "However I did not count on Mrs Frobisher's emotional attachment to the lad, and to many of us."

"Where is Remus now?" asked Molly Weasley, an air of panic in her voice.

"With the child. On guard lest Greyback, one that we did not capture, discovers her whereabouts and decides to go after her again. Besides he insisted."

"How is the little girl?" pressed Molly. "She was placed with Cecilia's family following the death of her parents, wasn't she?" Dumbledore nodded slowly and looked from Mrs Weasley back to the Order as a whole.

"On the day before the battle, Lupin discovered that Greyback had discovered her. He found Freya Mitchell hiding in Mrs Wells's house, under the bed, with the book. Under Bellatrix Lestrange's orders he was to retrieve in so he broke into her bedroom – "

"Heavens…! The girl…!" Molly Weasley put her hand to her mouth in horror.

"…is absolutely fine; Remus got there just in time and I believe Greyback will be a while recovering from the one that you, Bill – " Dumbledore looked across at the eldest Weasly child, " – managed." Bill Weasley beamed with pride: his jelly-legs jinx had allowed him to inflict a rather effective Stun, which had sent Greyback into the Forest where he was chased by a herd of Cenataur.

"...the house he burned to the ground however. Mrs Wells, Miss Amy Wells and Freya Mitchell have been visited by the Befuddlers who modified their memories. They now believe that they have lived together for the last nine years in the cottage near Inverness since the birth of the girl. They are now under ministry protection, and ours of course."

"They should be told of Cecilia," declared Mrs Weasley firmly. "They are the only family she has…" At her words the Order began to mutter to one another, debating the situation.

"Yes Molly, they should, but it is far too dangerous at the moment with Greyback and some Death Eaters still on the loose. And Voldermort. He is injured severely, however he will seek revenge as soon as he can get it."

"Then Lupin should be told of Cecilia," insisted Mrs Weasley, this time imploring Minerva McGonagall. "If what you told me earlier is true, Sirius – "

Heads looked sharply between Molly and Sirius wondering exactly what Sirius had told her but before Sirius had a chance to reply the door to the Great Hall swung opened. Past the students, who had only just managed to get out of the way and had shuffled back from their vantage point Snape hobbled determinedly.

He looked dreadful; far more than usual. He must have had a chance to change since Fred and George had carried him to the hospital wing but, other than that he looked like they had found him, bruised and battered; hair bedraggled and ungroomed sporting what looked like undesigner stubble on his face.

In his hand was a walking stick, like a large version of a wand and he leaned on it rhythmically as he made his way towards the assembled Order. Behind him, just before the door closed of its own accord, Hermione, Harry and Ron, still shrouded from view under the invisibility cloak, sneaked into the Great Hall.

"Severus! We weren't expecting your presence to this meeting." Minerva smiled weakly towards her colleague but before he could reply, Molly Weasley was on her feet.

"Is there any news, Severus? Of Cecilia?" She stared at him desperately, waiting to sigh with relief but he shook his head, ignoring the fact no-one had asked how he was.

"She is the same." He cast a look at Sirius. "Which is to say her physical injuries have much exaggerated the effects of the potion. She is not likely to recover. It may have been a different matter had she been brought to Madam Pomfrey directly…" Sirius was on his feet now, rising to Snape's inflammatory words but then, to the surprise of all present, bowed his head looking embarrassed.

"I didn't know," Sirius replied, "I thought it was just physical injuries..." Snape curled a lip in loathing.

"Interesting Black, considering the fact that every time you and she have been alone in each others' company you have been attempting to carry out her assassination. Convenient, wouldn't you say, if she died in your care..._of her injuries_?"

His lip curled further as he watched Sirius step towards him, feeling inside his robe for his wand and Snape placed a hand on the table, holding himself up.

"Gentlemen," began McGonagall, but Dumbledore put a hand on her arm.

"…to think we drove her to suicide, Severus," continued Molly Weasley, her distraught words reverberating loudly around the Great Hall. "That was what Sirius said; he remarked that at every opportunity when she could have gone home, she chose to remain with us." There were mutterings of agreement from the wizards that echoed Molly's distress.

"And you should have completed this!" declared Sirius, taking another step towards Snape. "Apparently you knew that she hadn't got what she needed from Godric's Hollow?"

All eyes were on Snape at this revelation and both the Order and the eavesdroppers, who had pressed themselves against the furthest wall, watching events unfold, gaped at him. Snape fixed Sirius with a hateful stare.

"It may have escaped your notice Black, that unless Cecilia can complete her task in its entirety she will find another way of doing it." He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Sirius. "And her choice to sacrifice herself Sirius was her entirely hers. I believe there's a lesson in that for both of us."

The Great Hall imploded into silence. Time stopped still as the wizards, including Dumbledore, waited for the next move. Instead of flying at Snape, which many expected, Sirius stopped and lowered his withdrawn wand.

"Yes," he agreed, looking at Snape. "I came to realise she was actually right. I was horrified when Harry informed me he had cursed her. I told him to watch out, but he ignored me. That was when we believed that she had Lily's sample." Snape shook his head slowly.

"No. She didn't. You are right, I did know. And I allowed her to carry on for I took the potion to check its safety for your godson."

Harry nudged Ron in amazement. Surely it wasn't just him who had noticed the shift in the conversation. No longer were they sniping at one another; information from both wizards was being imparted without either laying the blame on the other.

"I know," said Sirius. "I do not know how you managed to work with such a headstrong and determined woman as Cecilia Frobisher for the last seven months, Snape. I mean she was so resolute that she was not to be helped she picked a fight with me to divert my attention from her condition, until it was too late." He continued to stare at Snape and in turn, Snape returned his stare to Sirius.

"But you kept her safe. In the Shrieking Shack. You thought to take her away from harm." As Snape spoke steadily Sirius shook his head. Around them the Order continued to gape.

"I thought to take _you_ from harm. She was masquerading as you, if you recall." Snape nodded slowly. "She told me about your family," he continued.

"Did she now? And why would she do that?" From their position Harry could see Snape's knuckle whiten over the end of his walking stick.

"Because of the less than admirable way I treated her when I believed she was you. And, I assume, because she believed she was going to die."

"Hm," said Snape, holding Sirius's gaze.

"From what she said about your parents I can understand why you'd want mine," he conceded, continuing to look at Snape. Snape said nothing for a moment, before tipping his head in acknowledgement; his hair falling forward briefly.

"Any other last words?" prompted Snape, his voice even and steady.

"We spoke about Henrietta," continued Sirius, nodding his head slowly, "I'll admit now before all here, I was actually wrong. I shouldn't have interfered. She would have been happier with you, rather than the fate she suffered because of me, Severus."

The room stopped moving. It was unheard of for Sirius to call Snape by his first name.

"Also, thank you for taking the potion. If Harry hadn't been so headstrong, you could have saved him the trouble…" Snape said nothing. He stood, still bandaged and stiff, at one side of the table. Then Sirius walked past Dumbledore and towards Snape, repocketing his wand and keeping his eye fixed on the wizard.

"And I apologise for my behaviour about your father when we were at school. It was wrong of me to project my feelings of resentment about my family onto you. Now at least I know some of them turned out all right, that we have it in us to change. Mrs Frobisher showed me that."

_Now_ this was the limit for most of the wizards there, who felt their mouths fall open and gasp aloud in undisguised shock and disbelief, including Hermione who, standing covered her mouth quickly. Many turned to one another, unable to take in what came to pass next as Snape extended a hand in Sirius's direction.

And no-one was more surprised than Harry, holding onto Ron's shoulder for support when, before their very eyes Sirius took it.

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Harry retreated to the common room as the Order began to file out of the meeting with Ron and Hermione, Ginny and the twins. The meeting had lasted a further hour during which the wizards had discussed the most efficient methods of following up the enemy with the objective of recapturing them.

The students were tired and they'd occupied their usual places on the sofas; Hermione and Ron on the smaller sofa, Harry next to Ginny next to the twins on the other. The twins and Ginny were dying to hear of the details of what they had missed of the meeting but the common room soon became populated with the wizards and witches who had been in the meeting.

"We're off," said George as the wizards began to swarm in. "I don't think we can stand another night of reminiscences."

"Yeah," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "There's only so much of Dad telling tales of their capers at school, and mum shushing him – "

" – and correcting him, making it sound like humorous misunderstandings – " George nodded towards their father, who had begun a tale of night-time wandering with Sturgis Podmore, their mother re-editing the more rule-breaking of parts.

"Where to?" hissed Ron as the twins headed towards the portrait hole.

"Kitchens," they mouthed to him and their brother nodded. Kitchens was code for them visiting Cecilia in the hospital wing.

It took a long time for all six of them to get to the hospital wing from the common room; when they were sure they were free of adult presence Fred, George and Ginny stopped walking when they heard parts of the story, imparted by all three at various intervals, requiring clarification for the more unbelievable parts.

When they were finally at the doors of the hospital wing, Harry, and the Weasleys pressed their backs against the adjacent wall as Hermione looked at them.

"What?" she asked innocently, knowing what the answer would be.

"Your turn, Granger," replied Fred, grinning. "This time tell her that Hagrid's rash has spread all over his body and she'll need double the calamine that she did last night."

"Has it?" asked Harry, out of interest. Fred and George had been inflicting chronic but harmless diseases on Hagrid in order to create a diversion so they could get in to see Cecilia. In all, the children had been allowed to see her legitimately for an hour since she was brought in but in actual fact they had been in each evening, talking to her as well as amongst themselves, telling her information that was happening in the muggle world that they were gleaning from the muggle studies books or reporting the progress of the Order on capturing the Death Eaters.

"Yep," replied Fred mischievously. "That'll teach him to scoff all of our Malady Mixtures."

"Ate a whole two pounds," added George, shaking his head. "It'll be a good couple of hours before she comes back."

"At least, considering the side-effects," remarked Fred, trying to stifle a smirk.

Once Hermione had entered and, five minutes later Madam Pomfrey had swept past them, clearly agitated, all six students crept across the floor of the general hospital room and through the second pair of double doors which led to the hospital wing's intensive care room.

"Where did you three get to this evening when we were listening to the Order meeting?" asked Harry, when they had all pulled chairs around Cecilia's bedside in the darkness.

"Lumos," said Ron and Hermione, who then leaned over and placed their glowing wands, like lanterns, at the end of the bed.

"We came here," said Ginny quietly. The twins nodded.

"We asked about Cecilia; though wasn't too hard to pretend to care," added George, sadly.

"She doesn't look any worse," said Harry, looking across her translucent features as Cecilia Frobisher lay motionless under the covers. At least Poppy had tended her he thought; she was now in a nightgown and it looked as if the nurse had brushed her hair. The bruises on her face and arms were beginning to yellow, which meant that she was still alive, however there appeared to be more of them each evening they visited and, though Harry hadn't mentioned it to the others, spots of blood on the sheets.

"But she doesn't look better," replied Fred and they all looked at her, lying unconscious before them.

"At least it's not our fault this time," commented George. He and Fred nodded at one another before looking back at Cecilia.

"Malfoy's in here somewhere," said Hermione conversationally.

"It's his own fault, the idiot," replied Ron, scornfully, "he nearly wet himself when he saw a real Death Eater meeting." He smiled between Harry and Hermione proudly.

"I got him fair and square. He nearly died when he heard Mrs Frobisher say he was highly intelligent, stamped his feet when she insulted his father. Almost wept..._almost wept_ when precious Daddy attacked her with the Cruciatus curse. Even he couldn't stand that, the weed."

"That's 'cos of us," said George, looking at Fred and nodding with satisfaction. "When we brought Snape back, when we thought he was Cecilia, we got Goyle and Crabbe good and proper – "

"He was planning to get her, the git," added Fred, nodding at George.

"Gave you quite a shock when we realised it was actually the real Snape," said Fred, laughing at his brother, "I mean, when you told him he was the best teacher that had ever walked the halls of Hogwarts…" he nudged George, who had begun to turn red.

"Shut up!" he hissed darkly.

"And when you kissed him!" Fred added, grinning at Hermione, Ron and Harry.

"I thought it was her...!" moaned George, mortified. "And it was you that told him he was the best teacher that had ever walked the halls!"

"Oh, blessed heart!" exclaimed Fred, clutching his brother's arm dramatically.

"She's our sort of chap," added George looking at Fred.

"For Queen and Country – " they broke off, looking past Ron and at their sister. Ginny was crying.

"Ginny," said Hermione kindly, as she got to her feet and pointed at her chair. Ron moved into it and sat down as Hermione sat in his and put a comforting arm around Ginny's shoulder.

"I was so horrible to her," she sniffed, pulling out a lilac handkerchief from her jeans pocket. "Those things I said…"

"Forget it," said Harry, quietly. "Sirius has managed put the past behind him by the sounds of it. You should too"

"But then if she doesn't wake up and she dies - " moaned Ginny through irascible sobs.

"Then…I'll go to Azkaban for murder," said Hermione softly, patting her hand.

"No," said Ron. His brothers and sister, and Harry watched him owlly as he took Hermione's hand in his. "You did what she asked. You did it for a friend," he looked across at Harry, who nodded on agreement. "You are a very loyal friend, Hermione." Then Ron got to his feet again and placed something next to Cecilia.

"What's that?" asked Harry, confused.

"Well," began Ron. "It looks as if Malfoy was earwigging on us when we made your potion, Harry and he decided to do a bit of rearrangement of the Muggle Studies classroom…" Hermione looked at him in alarm.

"You mean to say that Malfoy did _that_? The place looked like a hurricane had been through it! Your mum and dad have just spent the last four days sorting it out." Ron nodded in conformation.

"He stole this," he continued, gesturing towards "Magic and Muggles" that he had just pulled out of his robe. "I think he twigged that she wasn't a squib and was going to tell Daddyo." Grim looks passed over their faces at Ron's words; none of them would put it past Draco Malfoy.

"What about the rest of her stuff?" asked Hermione. "Were your mum and dad able to rescue much?" Ron shook his head sadly.

"All her books, her notebooks with the Link in he chucked on the fire, the git. And the potions he tipped away, let all the animals out, basically had a right old time." The children nodded.

They had seen the devastation for themselves three days ago when Mr Weasley called in Ron, Harry and Hermione to take away the Muggle Studies textbooks. It was from these books that they had been updating Cecilia with information from the muggle world.

"Have you got it?" asked Ron of his sister. Ginny nodded and handed him the book. The cover had a burn mark on it but the pages were neatly filling themselves with muggle news.

"Anything new?" asked George, curiously. Ron shook his head, thumbing back a couple of pages before looking at the last one, as words were appearing letter by letter.

"Go on, read it out," prompted Harry, looking over his best friend's shoulder. "Yesterday was quite interesting."

So Ron read out the next couple of pages' worth of news to Cecilia, while the others listened in silence. When he had finished, they added their own comments before Hermione filled the unconscious Cecilia in with the news that they had heard downstairs.

"…and Snape and Sirius shook hands," she finished, nodding slowly, looking at Cecilia before turning back to Ron. "I can't believe it's going to end like this!" Hermione exclaimed, her emotions spilling out. This was a surprise to all present for she had recounted the information earlier so calmly.

"Why did she do this to herself? I trusted her when I made that polyjuice potion and she took it herself!" Hermione got to her feet and gestured angrily in the direction of the Forbidden Forest as she spoke. "However does she expect us to behave sensibly when she, our teacher, does that? I don't think she's a very good role model…" She trailed off and Ron took her hand, pulling her back down into her lap.

"I think she's brilliant," replied Ron, looking at her again. "I mean, putting herself in the way of danger rather than letting anyone else do it…" He looked at Harry, who was on his feet looking at them all strangely.

"I still can't believe she made it without mum's sample; she chose to die rather than take a bit of mum or risk the potion she had on me." The others nodded.

"She was intelligent," said Fred, looking at his twin.

"She told us not to follow her – " George nodded at Fred.

"If we hadn't – "

" – it might have been too late…"

"It might be too late for her already," sniffed Ron and it was his turn to receive a hug from Hermione.

"Don't talk about her in the past tense," chided Hermione quietly. "We have to hope. And," she looked around her friends, pausing to gain their attention, " I've made a decision: when I've got my NEWTs I'm going back home and studying science." She nodded at them, her voice calm; she had clearly given it a lot of thought.

"I've got to think of the other part of my life too. Like when you were helping Professor Snape when she disappeared, Harry, it all fits. I asked mum to send me a science book, and I'm beginning it all. And – " Hermione looked across at Cecilia, "…if…_when_ she wakes up, I will ask her to teach me..."

The young witch fell silent, dropping her head. Around her, her friends exchanged looks of incredulity; Hermione, who had spent the last five years proving that she was as good as any other witch or wizard now wanted to learn muggle science. Was there really no end to her talents?

"Right," said Fred, as the school bell tolled midnight. "Madam Pomfrey'll be back in a few mintutes; we'd better get back.

And so, with reluctance, but with promises of their return the six young wizards left Cecilia in the hospital wing.

88888888

The summer's day heat radiated around her. Cecilia looked towards the face of the sun and smiled. Her journey was taking her down a long country lane, towards home. She felt happy; she would see her family again, and she defied anyone not to be happy with weather such as this. Just a bit further down the road before her lay a green field, with cows lazily grazing. Her house lay across the field, so she looked for the stile she knew was round the corner.

As she looked, some gulls circled overhead, and she could hear their wings beating as they flew. No stile, she realised, and proceeded further down the lane, looking for another means of access. As she walked, a sudden chill bit the air. The hedge seemed to grow taller around her, and cirrocumulus clouds flicked across the sun.

How can I get in, she thought, and a faint hint of unease struck her. The mocking cry of the gulls seemed echo all around as she hurried back up the country lane and, as she surveyed the field she had seen before, her heart sank as its area increased beyond sight before her eyes….

…now she's running…along a beach, through the sand…the atmosphere is calm, the waves are lively lapping at the shore…it is most idyllic and peaceful. The sand is soft underfoot but Cecilia barely notices, as she hurries across it. She can't find them; where are they? Are they still here? The waves roll up the shore, and Cecilia searches the horizon. And then she sees them; Mum and Amy are waiting for her …there on the other shore...Freya is waving…and Libby too. And they're calling out to her…desperately wanting her help…screaming for her to come and rescue them…

88888888

"I never thought I would find you in the muggle studies classroom."

It was early in the morning, around three o'clock and Snape was holding up a pinkish draught to his wandlight, which he had poured into a boiling tube. At the sound of someone entering he turned and fixed his narrowing eyes from the solution to the interloper.

"Sirius. I never had you down for creeping around the castle at night; I thought all the Order were staying in Gryffindor tower." He continued to watch Sirius as the wizard picked his way through the debris that still littered the classroom over to where Snape was working. It had been decided that, until Cecilia either recovered or died no decision would be made about her possessions and as such Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had stacked what looked salvageable on her desk and left the rest as it was.

"So it's actually the post of Muggle Studies teacher you've been craving all these years then, rather than Defence," continued Sirius, scanning the miscellany of objects, tools and potions laid out on the table, some glowing evanescently under the light of Snape's wand.

"Was there something you wanted, Sirius?" Snape glanced back at the pinkish solution in the tube before setting it down in a rack; although they had come to a truce it was obvious that old habits of mistrust still ran high.

"Everyone's really worried about Cecilia; Poppy has just been to see us and informs us that she is getting worse…"

"Really?" Snape's tone was one of well-practiced sarcasm and he folded his arms emphatically.

"You don't seem that bothered." He leaned casually against the table, glancing at Snape. After a couple of minutes Snape picked up a handful of hemlock leaves and began to destalk them.

"Continue."

"She did all this?" asked Sirius distractedly, "I remember the muggle studies classroom to be such a drab, boring place. Even after James and I livened it up." Snape glanced quickly at Sirius, who seemed to be reminiscing rather than being provocative. He nodded politely.

"It would seem the new style of teaching suits the students. None of my house, I must add, but Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs. Many seem to have developed good logic and thinking skills over the past few months." Taking a pestle and mortar Snape began to pound away at the leaves, their structure yielding as he worked them.

"Four days," continued Sirius, watching Snape liquefy the leaves. "She woke up the last time after four days."

Snape said nothing. He put down the cauldron and picked up a base solution, before tipping half of it into another tube. The green liquid seemed to ooze rather than flow and he threw a look in Sirius's direction as the other wizard watched him add the pink liquid that he had been holding earlier.

"What would you say, Sirius if I were to tell you I have here a potion which, should the consumer take it, could allow him the power to reverse the injuries akin to those sustained by Mrs Frobisher? On a cellular level?"

Sirius stood straight and continued to stare at the potion.

"That?" he asked uncertainly.

"I've been working on it for a good many months; I anticipated Mrs Frobisher might come to some difficulty again the longer her collaboration with wizards endured – " he cast a long look at Sirius.

" – however I did not anticipate the difficulty would be of her own doing." He handed the tube, which had begun to shimmer in the light, to Sirius and he held it carefully, as if it were about to explode at any minute.

"What does that potion do, Severus?" Still holding the potion, for potion was what it was, and crossed to the bench where, up until a week ago, Cecilia herself worked feverishly, and examined the contents of the cauldron.

"It will heal her. I intended to bring the idea to the Order meeting tonight however I believed I would be outvoted because of the risk of further damage. The potion must be ingested and a spell performed." Snape stepped back and allowed Sirius the indulgence of examining the ingredients on the bench before continuing.

"At best, the wizard performing the spell could further harm or even kill Mrs Frobisher, should the energy of that wizard be slightly askew." He eyed Sirius as he continued to inspect the ingredients, "but this must be balanced with the possibility, the extremely high possibility that she will not recover."

He folded his arms and took a step back, waiting for Sirius to respond. At length, he turned to Snape and held aloft the potion.

"Three questions," he said, glancing between the potion and ingredients.

"Go on…"

"Why do you believe the Order would object to it being performed?"

"Because I have already spoken to Dumbledore and he believes that is the way vote would fall." Snape continued to look back at Sirius, as he had done that evening.

"Are you convinced it will help her?" Sirius returned the firm look. Snape nodded.

"Yes. I am."

"And Dumbledore, is he happy with this?" Snape glanced at the potion once again before looking back at Sirius.

"He believes it should be democratic. He also believes that more than one person will depart our world should Mrs Frobisher die." Sirius smiled slightly at Snape.

"Good old Dumbledore," he commented, handing the potion back to Snape. "But why are you telling me this?"

"I believe that is four questions, Sirius," Snape growled quietly, "but I will ignore your inability to count." Crossing over to the table and reseating the tube in the rack he opened up a small wallet, bound by cord.

"The most stable energy field is of a pure blood wizard," he continued, carefully extracting a few strands of dark hair from the collection that Cecilia had filed neatly therein, holding it out for Sirius's inspection. "That is to say, should a pure blood wizard perform the spell it will yield a higher efficacy. I merely chose the easiest and most effective method of manufacture…"

88888888

…she was searching for something; the moor she was standing in was growing darker, and she was aware of the shape behind her, following her. She continued to walk across the moor, looking for something…someone…but couldn't quite remember what for…or who… She had a nagging thought in the back of her mind telling her she knew she shouldn't have been there, and her mind chided her for ignoring the warnings…

…The thing behind her was getting closer; the padding behind her making her heart race slightly, and she looked round for a weapon. The dusk settling in round her as she went made the moor appear inhospitable; one or two lights many miles ahead kept her focus. Her mind began to race; it wasn't a matter of if the beast behind her would attack, but when and, no sooner had she thought this, its pace increased, jumping to one side of her. Cecilia turned to run, but was prevented from making much headway by two extruding basalt outcrops and the animal, something of a huge black canine bared its fangs and backed her into it. Her mind was blank with fear, she knew she couldn't run and there was no-one about. The animal backed her further towards the rock face, saliva dripping from its protruding teeth and a wave of terror washed over her…that was it, the end…she was done for. But then, someone jumped in front of her, holding out their hands to ward it off…instead of warding them off…the animal and the person...they stepped aside, the person held out their hand, and she felt the urge to take it…

88888888

The school clock tolled five when the Weasley twins watched Remus hurry hastily across the landing of the second floor and into the hospital wing only to return two minutes' later. He noticed the twins but said nothing, holding his head aloft as he could manage and striding past them. The expression on his face was one of determination and he did not turn when George called out to him urgently.

With speed Fred and George followed him down onto the ground floor, watching his pace pick up as he headed towards the south corridor, towards the Herbology classrooms, glancing behind him every so often at the twins.

When he finally did slow down, Lupin turned and waited for the twins to catch up with him and as they approached they saw an expression of utter devastation on his face.

"D…don't you want to see her?" asked Fred cautiously when they had stood in the darkened corridor for what seemed like an age. Lupin shook his head vehemently darting a look between the twins.

"She did all that…became Snape…tried to fight Voldermort…" The words coming from Lupin's lips weren't questions, more like statements of fact and both boys nodded in agreement.

"But you don't want to see her," said George, repeating his brother's question.

"Others care about her…" his voice tailed off and Lupin looked at the dark blue sky, tinged with a faint line of paleness indicating dawn to be on its way.

"They didn't know that was she was going to do that – " George leaned forward and looked at Lupin. "I think it's heroic…"

"And Sirius said that she said she loved you, Professor," added Fred, looking at his brother. "That's got to be worth a visit. And we know a thing or two about love," he added.

"That's right," replied George. "We know quite a lot."

"In order to make a successful relationship, you need to be able to talk," said Fred, looking downcast when Lupin looked back at him, smiling a little at their attempts to cheer him up.

"We're not joking," protested George, knowledgeably. "Stick with us and you're bound to come out all right."

Remus Lupin looked between the twins, smiling wanly. You couldn't help liking them, even if you were at the depths of despair. It would be like kicking a pair of playful puppies.

"Thank you for the information, lads. I'll give it due consideration."

And with that he turned and began to walk purposefully down the corridor heading towards the Herbology gardens. The twins followed him cautiously, watching as Lupin made his way towards an ornamental marble bench that sat in the centre of Professor Sprout's prizewinning display of posing pansies. He slumped heavily onto it, a look of utter misery washing over his face before holding leaning forward and holding his head in his hands.

From behind the pillars that were shielding them from view Fred and George crossed over the well-manicured lawn and sat down one on either side next to the bedraggled wizard, exchanging looks of confusion as Lupin sat unmoving, in silence. Eventually he turned to the twins and spoke, his voice cracked and his face red.

"I appreciate your concern, gentlemen but really, I've got nothing to offer Cecilia Frobisher…" He stopped when he saw Fred shaking his head.

"Can we ask," Fred began.

"…do you love her?" George looked at him expectantly as Remus turned to look at him.

"What?" he replied, finding it difficult to keep up with the conversation. "Do I – do I love Cecilia Frobisher?" He exhaled and laughed aloud for a second before glancing at both young wizards again. "Well, seeing as you've asked, then…yes," he nodded, "I love Cecilia Frobisher."

"Ah, well that makes it easier," replied George, nodding at Fred as Remus turned to look at him in confusion.

"Sorry?"

"Our advice," clarified Fred gravely.

"Indeed," nodded George.

"You see, I don't know if you've noticed, Remus old chap, that George and I are not exactly our mother's favourite children." Fred leaned towards Remus conspiratorially, as if sharing top secret information. "She appears to have a large blind spot for our qualities," he added, nodding as if that made things clearer. Remus stared blankly at Fred.

"What Fred is trying to say," continued George "is that we are not what mother expected, but we love her, and she loves us. We all just have to make the best of it," he concluded, nodding wearily.

"And we can see you're potty for her; Cecilia that is, not mum," said Fred, "so it is our opinion that you ignore the rubbish about doing what you think is right and just go for it." George said nothing, nodding in agreement.

Remus felt the misery of the last week ease slightly and he smiled at the twins once again as a cool morning breeze, heralding the morning sunlight bristled the croaking conifers.

"Yes," he agreed, looking between them again as a small breeze tousled his hair. "I am, as you put it, potty for her."

"Well, in that case we feel we must warn you," added George, leaning towards Fred as his brother got to his feet, winking at George, "it's only fair – "

"Warn me?" repeated Remus absently.

"Yes," agreed Fred as George got up too. "Warn you that if you leave it too late with Mrs Frobisher then we'll have no choice but to make our move," he continued, grinning at his brother. Remus nodded slowly. Somehow, looking at life from the Fred and George perspective was quite insightful.

"Thanks lads," he said wistfully as they departed, "I'll bear it in mind."

"Night," they added, retreating slowly back towards the corridor.

88888888

…and as Cecilia reached out her hand, she felt…warmth. Not only on her face, but also running up her arm as if she had been bathed in warm water. Behind her eyelids the brightness of light beyond made Cecilia's senses come to life…

And then, just as she was about to open her eyes someone took Cecilia's outstretched hand and held onto it.

"F…F…" she tried, and the person next to her squeezed her hand in response. Cecilia could hear the person talking, their voice becoming louder and higher pitched as she tried again.

"Poppy!" she head the person next to her call shrilly. In a voice that she recognised. Cecilia opened her eyes and Minerva McGonagall looked back at her.

"Cecilia, my dear! Oh my, this is marvellous! Poppy!" She turned her head towards the door and Cecilia made to shift up the bed, but McGonagall turned and squeezed her hand.

"No, don't try to move – Poppy! " She turned her head again to call for Madam Pomfrey. "Yes, I expect it does hurt," Minerva added when Cecilia winced in pain.

But why am I here, Cecilia thought. The last thing I remember was…the Shrieking Shack, and…Sirius. I've taken enough potion to kill me three times over and…the Cruciatus curse…

…why am I not dead?

"Just lie still dear, and I'll try to get Poppy," said Minerva, looking kindly on her as she shifted uncomfortably in the hospital bed. "I'm so glad I was here, Cecilia; you've no idea how worried we all were and – " she broke off as the door to the intensive care ward swung open and, still holding Cecilia's hand Minerva got to her feet.

"Poppy, I – oh, it's you Hermione." Minerva glanced in Cecilia's direction. "Well, don't just stand there girl! Go and fetch Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione followed the line of sight that Professor McGonagall had just taken and put her hand to her mouth when she realised Cecilia's eyes were open.

"Don't just gape, girl! Go! Now! At once!"

Within ten minutes around the now very exhausted and very awake Cecilia came visitors as well as Poppy Pomfrey. First to arrive, even before the nurse herself, who had gone to treat Hagrid's boils, was the Weasley clan with Harry and Hermione.

All nine of the family clambered round Cecilia, oo-ing and gasping in wonder at her recovery, asking her how she felt, filling her in on events that had taken place in the castle that week and equally congratulating and condemning her on her bravery or stupidity in facing Voldermort whilst Mr Weasley described the battle in all its detail.

Cecilia listened politely, feeling like an interloper in the midst of her visitors, not knowing what to say or do. From her perspective, from her aching head as she lay propped up on the hospital pillows she felt distant from Mr Weasley's words as they floated around her, not really connecting.

"We are so glad to have you back with us, safe and well," Mrs Weasley concluded, when she felt Mr Weasley had said enough and she sat back down and Ginny got to her feet. The young girl stood nervously as her parents and brothers watched her closely.

"I…I wish to apologise, Mrs Frobisher, for the wrong I have done you," she began, her face flushing scarlet and tears springing to her eyes.

"Forget…it," managed Cecilia, trying her best at a smile towards the young girl, not bad when it felt like her whole mouth had an overgrowth of grass which was in dire need of a mow. And the mood lightened to the Weasley twins giving her another comic about which Cecilia reiterated the boys' talent.

"See mum, Mrs Frobisher thinks our talent is excellent," George replied as Mrs Weasley scoffed.

"And she's a teacher," added Fred, glancing at Cecilia. She was about to reply when, to her relief Madam Pomfrey swept into the intensive care room, gaping at the fourteen people around Cecilia in horror.

"What is the…what's going on here?!" she asked sternly and she gazed to where Cecilia was lying, eyes open in bed.

"Out!" she demanded, pointing towards the door. "I have a patient that needs my attention. You can come back later."

Reluctantly Cecilia's visitors left her with the nurse and, when the room was empty Poppy's stern expression changed to one of astonishment.

"Cecilia…how are you feeling?" she sat down on the chair that Minerva McGonagall had just vacated, looking her up and down. Cecilia nodded, trying not to let the pain show on her face but feeling relieved that she was now alone.

"Like before when I took a potion," she clarified, before Poppy Pomfrey had the chance to ask her. "Aches…pains…general feelings of urgh…" The nurse nodded in agreement and she threw off Cecilia's blanket, before examining her.

"I…I don't understand…with the damage…all I could hope was to make you comfortable…" She shook her head in disbelief again before adding. "But you are awake, you are alive. And that is the most important." Cecilia nodded. Her head felt much lighter than it had done a few moments ago and she felt like she wanted sleep…

…when she reawoke, the shafts of sunlight had shifted further round to the right and they bounced off the stone walls to Cecilia's left as she opened her eyes…

…in disbelief at so many people round her bed. The Weasley family were close by her, as was Professor McGonagall. Many wizards from the Order sat and stood to her left and above, hovering just behind them were Harry and Hermione.

"Welcome back," Cecilia heard someone say to her left and she turned to see the smiling face of Sturgis Podmore, his bowler hat perched on his head in the same manner as she remembered it when he was at the Christmas Ball. Cecilia smiled back in his direction.

"Good to see you," murmured other wizards who had appeared to be waiting for her to respond before saying anything.

"…hope you're feeling better…"

"…nice to see you…"

Cecilia smiled at them as she looked at each and every face working her way from Sturgis on her left to Mrs Weasley on her right, who patted her hand gently.

"We all wanted to see you, dear," she clarified, looking at Cecilia's overwhelmed expression. "The Order," she reiterated.

"Thank you," she said, looking at the wizards again, searching their faces for the one amongst them Cecilia hoped would be there.

"Don't mention it," replied Kingsley, who was standing just beside Arthur Weasley. "It is us who should be thanking you." Next to him, pushing her way through, was Madam Pomfrey, looking distinctly harassed.

"And now I'll thank you to leave Cecilia to rest," she concluded, looking round at the wizards, some of whom dropped their heads obediently, clearly trained to the nurse's voice. "She will be in here for a while to recover so you will have plenty of time to see her…" Poppy's voice trailed off as the wizards parted to Cecilia's left and gliding between them was Dumbledore, dressed in his usual red cloak, his hair longer and whiter than ever.

"Perhaps they can stay for a few minutes longer while I speak to Mrs Frobisher?" He pushed up his half-moon spectacles as he looked at Poppy.

"Oh, if they must," she replied, defeated. "But no more than five minutes," she added, pushing between Kingsley and Bertie Griffin.

"My dear, you look dreadful," Dumbledore smiled serenely at Cecilia as he sat on the end of the bed and smiled faintly.

"And I must say that is a complement considering what you have been through; we are all very pleased with the result. Voldermort is defeated in all but bodily form, and you are with us again."

"Hear, hear!" came a voice from the foot of Cecilia's bed.

"So it only leaves me to say thank you on behalf of every muggle and wizard in this land for the courage and bravery you showed last week, last month…in fact every week and month, and every day that you have been with us – ah, don't interrupt," Dumbledore held out a hand to hush her, "I have spent a long time on this speech and do not wish it to be interrupted.

"Sufficed to say we here are all very pleased with your miraculous recovery." When he finished, he beamed at the audience around Cecilia, who burst into applause. Dumbledore got to his feet and leaned towards her, patting her hand.

"When you are better, my dear, then we will discuss matters of work," he whispered. "Now, you must concentrate on becoming well. Tomorrow will come soon enough."

And with that, Dumbledore turned to the Order, instructing those who were on duty to accompany him back to the Great Hall.

When most of the wizards had left, Cecilia turned and smiled at Mrs Weasley who was still sitting to her left with the rest of the Weasleys around her, Harry and Hermione closing the gap behind them. She was about to open her mouth when Harry took a step forward, grinning.

"Thanks, Mrs Frobisher, for being so brave," he began, looking at his feet. "I wasn't that brave, in the battle – " Cecilia fixed him with a determined look and Harry stopped speaking.

"You took the potion," said Cecilia quietly. "You believed. You were prepared to do what was necessary, Harry where I on the other hand, did not, which put you in danger."

"Yes, I know about mum's sample," replied Harry quickly. "And you did what you thought was right." Cecilia smiled at him muzzily.

"Then we're still friends, Harry?" she asked, ignoring Mrs Weasley's pleas for her to remain vertical and pushing herself up the bed with some effort. Harry's face brightened.

"Still friends," he confirmed. "Which reminds me, are you two still friends?" He looked at Hermione and then at Ron, both of whom blushed shyly, nodding vaguely.

"Then that's settled," said Mrs Weasley in a tone of finality. "We're all back to friends, and – " Molly paused, as she saw Fred and George look at one another uncertainly.

"We're not too sure," said Fred, looking at George and frowning. "We don't think we're friends."

"Merlin, don't be so silly," retorted Percy, casting them a supercilious look. "Of course you are."

"We're not," replied George, "we're undecided about whether we should tell mum about – "

"Tell me about what?" insisted Molly Weasley in undisguised annoyance. "Come on, spit it out." Fred and George looked uncertain again and George nudged Fred in the ribs.

"Come on," said George, looking at his brother, then rolling his eyes. "Ok, I'll tell her. Mum," he began, looking at his mother. "We have something to tell you. When we finish school we are going to use our talent to make a great deal of money." He glanced at the comic that he had placed next to Cecilia on the table before back to Molly Weasley.

"We'll stay on and do our NEWTs but you must accept what we want to do for a career…" He trailed off as Mrs Weasley's face began to grow red and she screwed it up into a ball, advancing on them.

"Now look what you've done!" hissed Fred, nudging George. Every pair of eyes was on the twins. But to their surprise Mrs Weasley burst into a smile and stood before the twins.

"My sons," she began, hugging both of them in her arms, their heads resting on either shoulder. "I'll be happy whatever you do in life as long as you are happy," she finished, releasing Fred and George.

"Now I hope you are very satisfied, young lady," Molly turned and looked at Cecilia, a tone of light rebukefulness entering her voice. "You have quite an influence on my husband and children…" she continued, smiling widely at Cecilia. "And I must say, all in all, it is a good one. Now, we must not press on more of your recuperation time; I can see you need your rest." Cecilia nodded in agreement. "We'll be back soon," Mrs Weasley added, turning to the children, who waved and whispered their goodbyes.

And almost as soon as Cecilia watched the door swing shut behind them she sighed with relief, grateful that she was alone at last.

It wasn't as if she didn't appreciate her visitors, but she had a uneasy feeling in her stomach which, until she could work out what it meant, left her wanting the company of her own thoughts. She turned to look at the opposite wall, watching as the shadows played on it before closing her eyes and pulling the sheet and blanket around her, yielding to sleep.

And in the fading consciousness of her mind Cecilia's thoughts lingered on only one wizard now and on his conspicuous absence…how she wished he would be sitting there, right in front of her, when she woke up again…

…a few minutes after Mrs Weasley and the rest made their way downstairs, another pair of wizards entered the hospital wing, creeping through the empty day ward and opening the door to the intensive care before peering round the door.

Sirius held the door open so Snape could see Cecilia, her eyes closed, turn in her sleep. He winked at Snape who narrowed his eyes automatically, before nodding in agreed satisfaction.

Night came…

…when he was sure that she was asleep and everyone had gone Remus Lupin crept into the hospital wing. In the only occupied bed he heard Cecilia breathing rhythmically as she slept, curled up on her side facing him. Her face glowed in the waning moonlight and Remus winced automatically as he registered whence the luminescence originated.

Sleeping silently, Remus approached her, watching her move gently in her sleep, her soft, butternut-coloured hair spilling all over the hospital pillow. Remus stopped and stared at her for a long time, watching as she turned in her sleep, as she stretched out, as her breathing pattern changed.

He wanted this for the rest of his life, to look at her as he remembered her at Christmas, sleeping next to him, contented.

Eventually, longing gave way to weariness and he pulled up one of the wicker hospital chairs to the far side of Cecilia's bed, looking at her lovely features and began to whisper to her as she slept, his voice sounding horribly tinny against the sandstone cladding.

"I always wondered what it would feel like to love someone like I love you," he began, watching her move around in her sleep. "I left you because I was scared of your reaction. I couldn't bear it to end as it so often does with people. And I didn't want your pity." He sighed and moved his chair closer to Cecilia's sleeping form.

"I like to be liked; I am susceptible when someone shows me anything other than contempt. And I wasn't honest with you."

On the table next to her he placed the brooch he had given Cecilia at Christmas. The light from the waning moon played on its facets as it sat, boasting its beauty to the darkened hospital room.

"My grandmother's," he clarified, glancing at the brooch. "She was a muggle like you; it was her brooch. That's how Dad got involved with Raymond Lully. She died before I was bitten…I'm so glad she never got to see me like this." He glanced back at Cecilia again, bending close to her face and planting a kiss on her cheek. She stirred a little and he backed away, watching her intently.

"Cecilia, I'll make you a promise. If you still want me…if you will still have me faults and all," he reached down and took her hand. "If you promise you accept me because you love me, then I will never leave you again."

88888888

"It was foolish to talk of the Reciprocators, Dumbledore, very foolish indeed!" Cornelius Fudge paced around Dumbledore's desk, his hands clasped together behind his back as he looked towards the floor every so often, and shaking his head. "They exist as a legend in the old time…which _has long since gone_! There is _no such thing_!" Fudge's last few words were emphasised sharply and he poked his finger rhythmically as he spoke. Dumbledore looked at him evenly.

"My very dear Minister," replied Dumbledore, returning to his chair after a tour of his office, which took in Fawkes, the books on the shelf (which he casually realphabetised as he ignored Fudge completely), the floo link from his fireplace and the former heads of the school. Now he looked impassive and steepled his fingers thoughtfully, hoping that Fudge would take it upon himself to leave shortly following his already hour and a half consultation with Dumbledore.

"I believe I am living proof of the contrary. I am the very last Reciprocator and as a result of a highly successful collaboration we were in a position to defeat Voldermort last Saturday." Dumbledore smiled as he watched a smirk of triumph pass over Fudge's face.

"But he was not defeated; he is still at large. And besides the movement you speak of is against the law!"

"It is," agreed Dumbledore. Fudge gave him an incredulous look, before continuing to pace before his desk, looking at Dumbledore every so often as if he was looking to catch him at something.

"Hogwarts is a well-respected educational establishment; she cannot stay at the castle!"

"Indeed she cannot," agreed Dumbledore, watching Fudge turn and glance at him furiously.

"You have another two days to sort out, Dumbledore," he added forcefully.

"Then let us hope that the recovery process is speedy, otherwise my staff and colleagues will believe me unbelievably cruel to despatch an employee, who uncovered the Universal Link and faced Voldermort alone, out onto the streets with no care…" Fudge stopped pacing, and turned slowly, his eyes narrowing at Dumbledore's comment.

"I do not suggest that," he replied stiffly.

"Then we are agreed that her fate is in my hands, especially with Voldermort." Dumbledore got to his feet and began his circuit of the office again; tonight Fudge did not appear to be in any hurry to leave.

"That is a point to be proved, though I cannot deny that your returning the students to their families at such a time as this was extremely foresighted, Dumbledore. Now at least we should be able to get this matter sorted out so they may return promptly also."

Dumbledore turned and paced back towards his desk, smiling politely at Fudge.

"I want the Aurors gone from the castle by tomorrow," he began to count down on his fingers a mental list of things he wanted done.

"Yes, I believe some are still in the grounds. One or two were sent to Madam Pomfrey for treatment for injuries from my edgestones." Fudge looked at him darkly.

"It is clearly shortsighted to underestimate the power of old magic," he added, a twinkle forming in his eyes.

"Second," continued Fudge, clearly determined not to be swayed from his list, "that when the muggle, Mrs…Mrs…"

"Cecilia Frobisher," prompted Dumbledore patiently.

"Yes, yes, that's right," added Fudge, looking uncertain, "when Mrs Frobisher recovers that you can assure me you do not hold ideas for her to return to complete your objective." He stared at Dumbledore, willing the headmaster to argue. Instead Dumbledore took a few steps towards Fawkes again, tickling the phoenix fondly by its comb.

"Would you like to meet her, minister? I am sure she would not mind in the least being visited by the most powerful Ministry official we wizards hold dear."

Fudge stopped in his intended continuation to press his point, looking at Dumbledore as if the headmaster had just offered to put cyanide in his tea.

"To answer your question Cornelius, when she is of full health I will offer her the position of muggle studies teacher, which I do not believe is under direct control of ministry. Indeed it is an honorary position, the prime objective of which wais to offer choice and an all round balanced education to our young students."

Fudge stopped and Dumbledore looked at him again, his face beginning to turn purple. Eventually he nodded, and squeaked a "yes" of confirmation at Dumbledore.

"How fitting then that a muggle should deliver it, who has done these things and has experienced life hitherto as a muggle herself." He smiled again as Cornelius Fudge shook his head.

"However brave she is, Dumbledore, a muggle she remains."

"Yes indeed, and that is best for all our sakes. When your Aurors have finished I will kindly inform them they are to return to the Ministry. Now, if you'll excuse me Minister, I have a wizard to locate."

88888888

The early morning sunlight crept slowly across the walls of the hospital and Cecilia opened her eyes. It was funny how she seemed to be suffering more from aches and pains this morning than she had done the day before and she turned over in bed to find a more comfortable spot.

At first she did not notice Remus Lupin, asleep in the chair at the far side of her bed and when she did notice something it was a large brooch that was perched on the table next to the bed, shimmering and sparkling in the sunlight. Not just any brooch. The one that Remus had given to her at Christmas, if she was not very much mistaken; the one she'd returned to him.

Cecilia's eyes were drawn to him slowly, as if in a dream; that if she did anything other than savour every inch of the man sleeping soundly next to her he would disappear from sight. He was here, by her side. He was here…like she had wished for…

With bleary eyes she watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically; his fair hair dishevelled and unkempt, falling all over his face. His long arms and legs; his hands curled around one another loosely.

Cecilia made her way and looked at his face; there was an ugly great gash across the left-side of his face which, even though it looked a few days old, seemed very deep. Her mind drifted to the scars she had seen across his back, on his arms and legs, when he was with her at Christmas. It made perfect sense; if he became a werewolf once a month then these scars were a result of injuries caused because of that.

Cecilia's mind began a journey of analysis, wondering whether she was actually awake, wondering whether she had strolled into one of her own dreams of longing where Remus Lupin wanted her and was there for her. Wondering whether it was all real, and if it was then whether what he had to say to her would be what she wanted to hear.

She continued to daydream idly, staring at him, and taking in her favourite features of him as she repeated these thoughts, like a looped tape and it wasn't until Remus's voice stirred her thoughts that she realised he was awake.

"Cecilia," he began, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Remus," she replied, smiling at him faintly.

They continued to stare at one another until finally they spoke at the same time.

"The twins told me that – "

"Sirius told me that – "

Cecilia stopped, waiting for him to continue. When Remus sat back in his chair she continued.

"Remus, don't leave me. Not again." Her voice was quiet and sombre, but Cecilia could also hear panic there too. "I don't care if you are a werewolf." Remus continued to stare at her, reaching down for her hand and looking at her carefully.

"Nor you me. I don't know what I would have done if you'd died out there." He smiled and stroked her hand and Cecilia smiled too.

"I wish you'd explained at Christmas; I wouldn't have cared. I'll learn how to make your potion if I have to; just never leave me again…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed a dark shadow crossing his features. Remus cleared his fault.

"You can accept me…you can love me?" Cecilia looked at his face which was now picked out in desperation and she looked enquiringly at him.

"There's no question; you could have told me at any time and it would not have made any difference to how I feel about you – "

She broke off. She had no choice; Remus was kissing her hard and firm, pressing his lips determinedly to hers. Cecilia traced her hand down his face as their kiss escalated in passion and intensity, and she felt the deep-cut scar upon it. Remus broke off, looking directly into her eyes.

"Hazards of my breed," he began, almost apologetically and tried to turn his face from her but Cecilia turned his head back to her before stroking it lightly. "I'll heal," Remus added, smiling at her.

"As will I," she replied as happiness, like a river of liquid gold, coursed down the back of her neck and began to spread all over her body. He loved her; he wanted to be with her. And he knew now that he loved her too.

"Er-hm." A cough behind Cecilia made her jump and Remus loosed her from his embrace, looking past her as a look of worry crossed his face. Madam Pomfrey walked around the bed and Cecilia smiled, not caring how annoyed the nurse would be. Poppy Pomfrey cast her a small smile before frowning sternly at Remus.

"Visiting time begins in an hour, Mr. Lupin although I can understand why you'd want to get here before the rush."

"The rush?" Lupin looked confused, equally so as Cecilia.

"Oh yes," Madam Pomfrey replied, rolling her eyes impatiently. "I have had no end of wizards asking me when they can see you, Cecilia, when you'll be well enough to help them with their work, whether you'll be well enough to teach them how football works! Indeed!"

She shook her head and Cecilia felt a tinge of happiness crown the glow of joy that she was already feeling and Remus grinned at her.

"Now, I must ask you to leave, Mr Lupin; I need to examine my patient. Her recovery, however remarkable, must be carefully monitored; heaven knows what else she may have suffered – " Remus gave Cecilia a forlorn look and Poppy Pomfrey folded her arms.

" – you may return in ten minutes Mr. Lupin, that is my final word."

After that, Remus refused to leave Cecilia's side the whole of that day, even with a seemingly endless stream of visitors who wanted to talk to her.

In between their visits, Remus found time to speak of Freya, assuring her that she was safe with Cecilia's sister and mother in a house in Scotland, with their family being completed by the intermittent presence of a black cat, who was actually Bathsheba in disguise.

In return Cecilia told Remus of an ideal muggle studies curriculum; what she would introduce if wizards and war and her acceptance were no object. She told him that it would consist of the industrial heritage and power of muggles, include visits to the muggle world to gain valuable experience and include a good measure of muggle history, geography, politics and sport.

Remus told her to wait until the war was over and there was no reason why such a well thought-out scheme wouldn't work though she shouldn't attempt to run before she could walk. Cecilia nodded. She had yet to decide what she _would_ do now the door to the muggle world was closing behind her but for once decided to put her indecision to the back of her mind.

They discussed other things too, such as Tonks and how she would take the news of them Being Together, the difficulties they might face as a muggle and wizard together, his lycanthropy and her desire to continue her research into the Universal Link.

And later on that afternoon, before their solitude was to be interrupted for the fiftieth time that day Remus Lupin confessed to Cecilia that he had only twice in the last seventeen years had paid employment; the two occasions that he was a teacher and as a result he was far from rich.

"Neither am I, Remus," she replied, stroking the back of his hand as he held hers, "so you'll have to cope without champagne every morning for breakfast." He returned her smile with a weak one of his own and she felt a lurch in her stomach.

"That's not what's worrying you, is it? Just answer me," she prompted, as Remus opened his mouth to deny it.

"I am worried about that," he conceded, looking at her with his watery blue eyes. "But I wanted to know…if we're together...that is to say…" Remus swallowed and looked down before looking at Cecilia again.

"What are your plans? Do you wish to return to the muggle world? Because if you do, I'll come with you – " He broke off and Cecilia raised her hand to his lips.

"You need to be here; you need to be close to this. Wherever you need to be, Remus, I'll be there with you."

And with a sigh of relief, Cecilia saw his face lighten, as if a burden had been lifted. That was what was worrying him, she thought to herself as the doors behind them swung open.

"My family's house is in Cumbria. Father chose it following my Bite because of it's remoteness…"

"Sound's perfect," replied Cecilia as the next pair of visitors walked swiftly across the stone-flagged floor, arguing with one another as they made their way towards Cecilia.

"Moony!" Sirius Black's voice changed to one of surprise and he broke off from his heated discussion with Severus Snape about the merits of voiceless spells versus potions and grinned at his friend. "Nice to see you've finally plucked up the courage, old thing," he continued nodding towards Cecilia. "And a good choice too…"

"…yes," replied Snape, looking at Cecilia critically. "Anyone that could perform the miracle of mediation between Black and I is surely worthy of you, Lupin." Although his words sounded harsh, the tone that usually accompanied them was different and Cecilia looked between them, feeling an expression of awe overcome her features.

"Yes," nodded Sirius, glancing at Snape, "I'm beginning to appreciate Severus's contribution towards the hunt for Voldermort in an altogether different light." He looked at Snape. "It means I don't think you're going to turn us all over to him," he clarified belittlingly. Cecilia said nothing, but continued to look between them, her mouth beginning to open.

"Indeed, Sirius," replied Snape coolly. "And I am beginning to realise that your motives are not solely self-driven. You care for more than yourself and those whom you care for," he added, in an equally patronising tone.

"You _are_ a clever scientist," whispered Remus, leaning towards Cecilia and stroking her hair. "I've never heard them this civil."

"Just wanted to check you're well," continued Sirius, his beautiful eyes sparkling as he drew up a chair next to where Remus was sitting. "And you are – " he gestured towards the chair and Snape looked at it. "Come on, Moony. I think the potion-makers have a few things to discuss. And there's something I need to talk to you about anyway."

Remus was reluctant to go and leave Cecilia on her own but between them she and Sirius persuaded him that he would benefit from a bite to eat in the Great Hall. Once they had left Snape moved swiftly and quietly to take not the seat Sirius had placed there for him but the one closer to Cecilia.

"You look dreadful," he intoned, his face drawn and pale and he scrutinised Cecilia analytically before looking back at her face.

"You too, " she remarked, his face covered in scars. "Worse than last time; worse than ever I've seen you." Snape said nothing, glancing past Cecilia and at the copy of "Magic and Muggles" that was still residing on the table next to her bed, and on the comic that the Weasley twins had made for her.

"So we did it," she continued, following Snape's gaze. He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing.

"You did it," he replied, "but not quite. It's not quite as perfect as we thought…" Snape watched as Cecilia's face fell. "What I meant to say was that we need to work again on the potion because the situation has changed."

"We?" Cecilia gave him an astonished look. "You seem to have it under control if you know how you can adjust it." She felt her words fall dead in her throat.

How much she longed to be back in the muggle studies classroom, working on the potion. And at the same time with equal fervour she wanted to be as far away from this magical castle as she could, with Remus, building a life, as they were beginning to discuss that very afternoon.

"Why did you take potion?" Snape asked suddenly.

"Why did _you_? I did it because I was foolish, Severus," she replied softly, the words taking on a bitter edge.

"No, _I'm_ foolish," replied Snape, "I should never have underestimated you. You saved _me_ as well as Harry..." To her silent questioning Snape stuck out his left arm, and unfolded his palm, before rolling up his sleeve. Cecilia looked down at the horrible mark that was cut into his skin, the snake writhing as if it was under his skin.

"The Dark Mark has burned, Cecilia," he began, looking at her carefully. "He has summoned my presence on more than a dozen occasions…he summons now. But…" Cecilia looked into Snape's eyes, which were shimmering softly in the early evening light and he reached down and took her right hand in his left, "there is no pain. No sickening agony. I suspected what you might do, Cecilia and it compelled me to act foolishly."

Relief. That was what Cecilia was detecting in his gaze and she returned the look with a smile.

"I have never been more impressed with your work than when you were showing me the potions last year," she replied, her pride finally allowing her to speak honestly, though she knew she would not admit it to another wizard. "Magic truly is better than science; we know this from the mutation in gene. Magic is higher after all." Snape shook his head.

"Not in the least; I am proud and privileged to have worked with you, Cecilia. Another successful muggle-wizard collaboration, I feel."

"We each have qualities that have been more than the sum of their parts. Magic has been the subject and science has been able to explain it. A gestalt situation – " Cecilia broke off, withdrawing her hand from his and trying to move up in the hospital bed and Snape leaned over to help her, pulling her further up in the bed.

"Thanks," she added, trying not to let the nagging pain show on her face. "At least when I get out of here and get some long walks in I'll feel like I'm feeling better."

"Nothing like the Northumbrian mountains," commented Snape and Cecilia darted him a guilty look.

"No indeed. And I am sure the when Dumbledore redesigns the Muggle Studies curriculum he will be sure to incorporate some mention of the Universal Link, and perhaps even link it to potions. Whoever the next teacher is may not know any science, but you know enough." Cecilia was aware she was gabbling but it seemed the only way that she could get out what she wanted to say to Snape without him trying to change her mind. Silence reigned for a few moments while he took in what she had said.

"You…do not want to continue our research? I am most disappointed..."

"You can't use that voice on me; I know you better than that, Severus Salazar Snape – " She smiled and Snape did too.

Then to Cecilia's surprise he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips and she inclined her cheek in his direction. The peck was brief and when he pulled away Cecilia was sure Snape was blushing.

A cough behind them made Cecilia turn and Remus was smiling at her. Nodding his head towards him and smiling briefly at Cecilia Snape got to his feet before leaving them alone.

88888888

Two days later practically everyone had been to see her. Poppy and Snape both believed that, ironically, her cells had become immune to potions because of the Veritaserum that she had imbibed at Grimmauld Place. Snape had gone on to add that it was this immunity which prevented her from dying from the potion, proved that muggles and wizards are only separated by genes.

Mr and Mrs Weasley had brought her flowers that changed hue according to the mood of the conversation and Mrs Weasley had gone on to add that Tonks had told her to let Cecilia know that she was going out with a muggle by the name of Nick Smith whom she had met when she had gone with her to the muggle world. This news had astonished and delighted Cecilia and the small amount of guilt she was harbouring for her relationship with Remus evaporated quickly.

In addition, the children had visited, bringing with them all manner things and the twins had even informed Cecilia that should she change her mind about Remus then they would be more than happy to step in. Throughout her time there, Remus had barely left her side, much to Poppy Pomfrey's annoyance but to Cecilia's mind it was as wonderful as it could be.

And then, three days after Cecilia had become conscious again she received Dobby-delivered instructions that she was to see Dumbledore as soon as she was able that day in order to discuss her work. She had replied that she would come immediately, slipping out of the hospital and back to her own room, hoping that the overexcited Dobby would leave her be once she instructed him to take the message back to Dumbledore.

Now Cecilia had made her way up the steps to the top-most tower and she knocked as loudly as she could on the door which opened almost immediately. Before her, Dumbledore's office opened out as she had remembered it and in front of her the wizard himself stood, and to his right, Snape.

"Ah, Mrs Frobisher," said Dumbledore, sitting himself back down in his chair and gesturing to another before the desk. "Come in, come in," he added, watching her walk slowly towards them.

"I see you are up and about," he added, smiling in her direction and Cecilia returned it, before smiling to her left at Snape who nodded in acknowledgement. Then her eye rested on a book on the table.

"Mysterious Mythology," confirmed Dumbledore, looking between her and the battered volume. "Remus Lupin's old book; we recaptured it."

He gestured towards the tome and Cecilia took it, gasping aloud at its condition. There was a burn mark directly through its front cover which had penetrated right through to the back. Many of the edges of the pages were destroyed, as if it had been thrown repeatedly at a hard surface. And, to her further alarm, some of the pages were actually gone, only a charred strip of paper telling the tale that they had once been bound there. She knew there was a name for this effect; Remus had told her.

"Why does this happen?" she asked, showing Dumbledore the pages between which others had been destroyed and the headmaster looked at carefully.

"Books do that when they feel in danger such as in the hands of a very powerful foe. It is a self-preservation mechanism. Biblioinflamore," he added, nodding slowly "Which brings me on to why I asked you to come to see me."

"You wish to discuss my work," replied Cecilia cautiously. Dumbledore nodded.

"The secrets contained therein need to be revealed to the world. I will not entrust this task to anyone but the very best and when you return I believe it will not be a vast amount of work for you to complete even however complicated the research behind the Link."

He paced back towards his desk, picking up a quill pen and looking at the nib. Cecilia watched him, her brow creasing in incomprehension.

"But you have my research notes, you have them, Severus; the job is done." She turned to Snape, a hint of panic entering her voice.

"Indeed, I instructed Dobby to give them to the headmaster," agreed Snape, nodding slightly and Cecilia turned back to look at Dumbledore.

Instead of replying the wizard gestured his right arm towards the desk and at a pile of what looked like grey ash interspersed with shards of white paper and cotton-backed hardcover. Cecilia felt her heart sink at the thought of all her work destroyed.

"…unfortunately and accidentally destroyed in a case of mistaken loyalty, so I am led to believe by a Slytherin student who was concerned for the welfare of our muggle studies teacher."

As Cecilia opened her mouth to ask for further details Dumbledore turned and gave her his full attention.

"I don't think I actually thought through what I did, Professor," said Cecilia quietly, looking down and shaking her head under Dumbledore's foreboding stare.

"No, you were ill-prepared." Dumbledore folded his arms and took a few steps in her direction. "You put yourself and others in danger which is not a very good start to your first job in the wizard world. But, by happy chance that it seemed to be what was required to overcome Voldermort." Cecilia looked back up and Dumbledore was smiling.

"He's gone?" she asked in exclamation, looking between Dumbledore and Snape. "How wonderful!" But Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"He is not defeated although I believe he has suffered permanent damage. I was able to attack him myself but only for a short time, leaving him powerless, yet he is still alive and that is a worry, but for now the worry is my own."

"And…if I go…go home? If I leave to go to the muggle world? I do not want my memory to be erased."

"Out of the question;" chuckled Dumbledore, smiling at Cecilia. "Indeed, how will my muggle studies teacher be able to continue with no recollection of her surroundings? Especially if she were to carry out that and the research into the new potion that is being investigated by Professor Snape. And as much as we tolerate the ministry I would not like to have to share the Universal Link with Cornelius Fudge until I have no other choice, something which he would dearly like to have in his possession."

Dumbledore waved a hand over her decimated pile of notebooks and, at once they vanished. Cecilia continued to stare at the empty space where they had been for a few moments. She wanted to work, she knew that. But Remus had to agree. And it couldn't be right now.

"I will consider it Professor, cannot promise anything. Remus and I – "Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Indeed," he replied, nodding slightly. "I understand Remus Lupin has organised a place for you both to stay?" Cecilia nodded, ignoring Snape staring at her. "I speak for the Order when I say that we couldn't be happier for the both of you." Cecilia smiled as Dumbledore nodded again.

"And I understand you are travelling by train there?"

"Tomorrow, yes," nodded Cecilia. "Madam Pomfrey said I was well enough to leave the hospital permanently now," she added cautiously.

"Might I say that you are wearing a very beautiful brooch, Cecilia," Dumbledore continued, nodding in her direction as he handed her the remains of Remus Lupin's copy of "Mysterious Mythology. Cecilia said nothing as she took it from him, merely smiled again. At last, she felt that she was being accepted.

"Well, if there's nothing else, might I suggest a walk in the Northumbrian countryside before you leave," added Dumbledore softly, "the mountains are beautiful at this time of year." Cecilia smiled at him as she held the book close and turned, nodding to Snape before looking in the direction of the door.

"Should you need anything, Severus and I will be in contact," Dumbledore called as Cecilia opened his office door and she nodded again before closing the door behind her. Snape and Dumbledore exchanged looks.

"The remoteness of her location will be advantageous once the ministry begin to look for her," said Snape, looking in the direction of the fireplace.

"Indeed," replied Dumbledore, following his gaze. "And that two people are so happily in love with one another. I have to admit, I have never met anyone like her before Severus, and I've met a lot of people."

"Hm" replied Snape, still staring into the fireplace, "she is marvellous. Though I must say, headmaster that I believed your judgement to be somewhat myopic…" he looked at Dumbledore and away from the hearth. Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

"Sometimes people become what you least expect."

88888888

It had been ten days since Cecilia Frobisher had taken the decision to face Voldermort and she was in her room in the teachers' quarters packing her belongings. The wardrobe, which still stood before the fireplace, rocked back towards the sandstone cornices as Cecilia delved into the back of it retrieving the last of her clothes.

There, she thought as she pulled out a yellow summer dress – _the_ yellow summer dress that she had been forced to wear on her first ever visit to Hogwarts because it was all that was available; the one that went with the lemon knitted cardigan which had been the item she had thrown behind her just before her hand had alighted on the summer dress. She had got all her things now; there was nothing left in any cupboards or drawers in the room that she had called her home for eight months in this magical school.

Cecilia got to her feet and closed the wardrobe door, looking at the pile of things that she still had to pack. It would never fit in the bags she had and she scrutinising the items she wondered what she could safely leave behind, that she wouldn't miss.

The summer dress certainly, and the revolting cardigan; one or two other items of clothes that had been ripped or otherwise ruined – they could go. Cecilia wandered through the jumble of clothes separating those items that were still acceptable, those which she wouldn't mind wearing if she were to visit her mother and be guaranteed that no comment would pass and folding them into a pile onto her bed.

The science books, ones that she had had since she was a teenager and a teacher where she had added her own personal notes in the margin over the years; Snape might want those, or at least the next muggle studies teacher. Besides, it would only be if she came back to Hogwarts that she would need them again and Cecilia paced over to the books, looking over the titles before stacking them neatly onto her desk and writing a note to Dobby instructing the house elf to deliver them to the potions classroom.

Looking round again the pile of her belongings looked far more manageable to be transported by train and whatever she needed she would be able to buy in muggle shops, no doubt. Cecilia sat on her desk chair as her mind drifted to the future and the arrangements she had made.

She was going to Remus's family home; she would be contacted by Dumbledore and Snape about teaching and research work but she wouldn't return to Hogwarts she would remain with Remus…she was going to live with him…

For the thousandth time since she had woken up with Remus Lupin asleep next to her Cecilia thought how lucky she was. She was leaving to live with the man she loved – the _wizard_ she loved, Cecilia corrected herself, but that wasn't the issue. She was going to live with Remus and share her life with him. That was enough to make anyone happy.

She looked back at the summer dress that she had discarded just now. In jeans and a sweater Cecilia didn't feel particularly dressed up for such a momentous occasion and she looked back at the summer dress, wondering whether she would get away with it. With another cardigan, perhaps?

Cecilia made her way across to the items of clothing that she had initially discarded and picked up the dress, holding it by the straps to her shoulders and she winced a little as she moved her arms. Even though she was much better these days although she had a few aches and bruises for which Poppy had insisted on giving her some cream.

Would this do, she thought, looking at the creased fabric critically. Was it better than jeans? Her mind skipped on to the plans they had made the day before and what she would be wearing became insignificant.

Once Cecilia had packed she would meet Remus by the entrance to the courtyard, beyond the teaching classrooms, and then they would get the train from Dovetown to Penrith before taking another train, a local branch line to a small village deep within the Cumbrian mountains. Remus had explained they would then have to floo the final 20 miles after that because there was no public transport to his home.

Cecilia smiled on recalling this part; Remus had asked her over dinner the night before. The Order were enjoying a rather hearty stew in the Great Hall and he had become quite quiet and apologetic over the fact they must floo and it had taken Cecilia a few minutes to convince him that it didn't matter.

She turned and threw the dress back on the floor. It didn't matter if they had to floo; she didn't care. If she had to tolerate temporary sickness in order to get to where they were going to live, then it was a small cross to bear.

As Cecilia strode over to the clothes she was definitely taking with her there was a knock on the door and Hermione pushed it open carefully. Cecilia smiled when she realised who it was.

"Come in," she called, welcomingly. "Mind you don't trip over those," she added, gesturing towards her unwanted clothes. Carefully, Hermione picked her way over to Cecilia, returning the smile.

"Good morning, Mrs Frobisher," began Hermione, looking around the room. "Gosh, this does look different without your things in it." Cecilia nodded, gesturing towards the chair for the young witch to sit on. Hermione shook her head.

"No thank you," she added, "I'm not here long. I just came to say goodbye, Mrs Frobisher and thanks. Thank you." She smiled, looking round the room again nervously and Cecilia put down a sweater that she was beginning to fold, frowning.

"Why are you thanking me? It is you who I should be thanking, Hermione. Without you – "

"Without me you wouldn't have nearly died," interrupted Hermione quickly, looking at her feet. "Without me you wouldn't have had the Ron problem." She looked directly at Cecilia and held her gaze. "I'm thanking you for two things; one for not hating me because of what the polyjuice potion could have done and the other for showing me how wonderful the muggle world really is."

Cecilia said nothing for a moment and continued to fold her sweater, tucking it down the right-hand side of her case.

"You are exceptional, Hermione and I doubt there is anything you couldn't accomplish if you put your mind to it."

"Including science?"

"Including science," Cecilia confirmed, watching as Hermione's face changed from worried resignation to animated joy.

"Then would it be all right if I were to owl you? Only I've been reading Ron's encyclopaedia and I'm sure I'm beginning to understand it!" Cecilia nodded, picking up the last of her sweaters and began to fold it too.

"So you're really going," continued Hermione, watching Cecilia put the sweater on top of the rest of her clothes and close the lid of her case and she smiled and nodded at the girl.

"Did you know he was a werewolf?" asked Cecilia as she zipped it closed, swinging it into an upright position onto the floor. Hermione nodded.

"Everyone did; at least us students and the Order, which amounts to the same thing. And it doesn't bother you? It would me…" Hermione put her hand to her mouth, realising she had probably gone too far. Cecilia shook her head.

"No. I love him. It doesn't matter what shape he is."

"And you're going to run off together," Hermione continued, clearly pleased that Cecilia wasn't annoyed.

"Run off?" Cecilia laughed lightly and shook her head. "No, we're not running off, Hermione. We're not ashamed of our relationship." Cecilia glanced past Hermione as her mind began to drift towards Remus again. "I'm so proud of him...of everything...I just wish I knew more about...the Marauders...about Remus when he was younger...about wizards in general…but I suppose that doesn't really matter..." She looked back at the girl, who appeared to be taking in everything that Cecilia was saying in awe.

"No. I'm not ashamed, Hermione. I'm going to walk through Hogwarts grounds with him; I want the world to see how much I love him – "

Just then there was another knock on the door and Mrs Weasley entered. She glanced critically at the mess of abandoned clothes on the floor, taking in Cecilia's suitcase and bag before looking at Cecilia herself.

"You're packed then," she asked, smiling and Cecilia nodded as Mrs Weasley closed the door behind her.

"Just got to get some things from the muggle studies classroom and then we'll be off." Cecilia saw a look pass between Hermione and Mrs Weasley and she waited politely for Molly Weasley to say what she obviously wanted to say.

"I wanted to ask, Cecilia, before you go," she paused, looking at Cecilia's case again before directly back at Cecilia. "Are you moving too fast, dear? It's such a change you know, for a muggle. Just ask Tonks's father; it took a lot for him to get used to living with Andromeda's ways. And you'll have…other things to consider."

Cecilia's mind instantly flashed up an image of Libby, talking her through difficult decisions when they were much younger. Devils' Advocate.

When she was sure that Molly Weasley had nothing else to say on the matter she turned from the slowly pinking witch and smiled at Hermione.

"Tell me honestly, Hermione, is it such a change to live in the wizard world?"

"Honestly?" Cecilia nodded.

"No." Hermione shook her head, grinning happily and Cecilia smiled too.

"I just wish I could do something with _that_, though; I've nothing nice to wear really; I was hoping that would do." Cecilia gestured in the direction of her unwanted summer dress and Mrs Weasley stooped and picked it up, handing it to her.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked as Cecilia held it up again and Cecilia shook her head sadly.

"Everything! The bust bit's too big; it's yellow; the straps are horrible and it's too short. I don't know what possessed me to buy it, to be honest," Cecilia added, annoyed.

"Well, it's no Emaness, that's for sure," replied Molly Weasley, looking at it critically. "Hermione?" She glanced at the girl, who had pulled out her wand.

"Venierum Regium," said Hermione, and flicked her wrist. Suddenly, Cecilia's dress began to lengthen, becoming calf length and the hue darkened to a deep orange-red. At the same time, the material at the bodice reshaped itself became a halterneck fastening.

"I really don't know how I'm going to do without magic now, I'm so used to it," Cecilia remarked, shaking her head in awe at the dress. "Two minutes and we'll see how great you really are, Hermione," she added, smiling broadly at her.

"When do you leave?" asked Mrs Weasley, admiring Hermione's transformation as Cecilia reappeared wearing the newly-altered dress, which was perfect, from the bathroom shortly afterwards.

"I'm meeting him in the courtyard at one," replied Cecilia, retrieving the cardigan, which now contrasted wonderfully with the dress and put it on just as the school clock tolled one doleful sonoration.

"Half an hour then," replied Mrs Weasley, stepping over towards the door and opening it for her as Cecilia swung her small bag over her shoulder and listed up her suitcase and smiled fondly at her. "Good luck, Cecilia."

88888888

It seemed strange to Cecilia to be walking around the castle as she herself. Making her way down the grand staircase above the Great Hall the thought occurred to her, for she was now no-one else, not a squib or a witch or a remarkable scientist. She was not pretending to be something that she wasn't. And somehow that thought was a liberating one.

Out through the main doors Cecilia strode, out into the spring sunshine, which irradiated her face and made her pause for a moment as a cirrocumulus cloud bobbed along in the mild breeze caught her eye before crossing the courtyard and towards the classroom corridor.

Just a box of equipment to go, and she would be ready. Ready to meet her Remus and start her new life. Cecilia made to turn the handle of the large oak door putting down her suitcase when she heard a loud booming voice by her ear, causing her to jump, violently.

"Hello, Mrs Frobisher," Hagrid intoned, his voice back to normal, compared to the last time he had addressed her and he picked up her suitcase easily in his right hand.

"Hagrid!" she smiled, looking at his large, jolly face and unkempt beard. "How are you?"

"How are you, more's the point," Hagrid continued, taking her bag from her shoulder and holding that too in his right hand. "Why didn't yer say? Why didn't yer ever tell me? If I'd known 'bout what yer was planning, I would 'ave – " Cecilia raised her eyebrows as Hagrid trailed off.

"You'd have tried to stop me, Hagrid because that's the wonderful person you are," Cecilia replied, turning the ring on the door and opening the latch. Hagrid frowned.

"…and wouldn't I 'ave been right to do so, Mrs Frobisher? A little muggle as yerself faced Voldermort…? Un'eard of!" Hagrid shook his head, his beard flapping in the breeze lightly. "I'd never 'ave believed it meself if I 'adn't seen it wi' me own two eyes…"

"You fought in the Great Battle?" asked Cecilia, surprised. "I thought you weren't aloud to use magic?"

"Well, under the circ'mstances Dumbledore thought it would be more dangerous if I didn't, seein' as 'ow I was there, like. Brought a couple'a Death Eaters down, I did," he added proudly.

Hagrid then proceeded to tell Cecilia the whole thing, from him seeing her as Snape running past the hut right up until his hunting round the Forbidden Forest, retrieving Death Eaters in the early hours of the morning afterwards from the Centaurs as Cecilia made her way to the muggle studies classroom to collect the equipment that she had thankfully boxed and tied with string earlier that morning.

"So you'll be meetin' old Lupin in a bit," he added conversationally as he accompanied Cecilia back out into the courtyard.

"One o'clock," said Cecilia, turning towards the archway that led towards the grassy quadrangle which the classroom windows overlooked, and above, Gryffindor tower. "Thanks for carrying those, Hagrid," she added, feeling a shiver overcome her.

"Over there," she pointed a finger towards the fountain as they made their way onto the grass. Hagrid said nothing as Cecilia glanced at him, nodding slightly and smiling.

The ornamental fountain that stood in the centre of the lawn looked glorious in the spring sunlight, its verdigris coating shimmering prettily. Hagrid swung down her suitcase and bag from his right shoulder onto the grass and placed her string-tied box next to it.

Cecilia looked round at the deserted surroundings, at the sandstone-clad buildings, at the stained-glass window that had been her place of work for so many months; at the tower where some of the students slept…some of her students and a tear welled in her eye.

"I'm going to miss being here, all in all," she commented, smiling at the giant and Hagrid grinned back, bending his knees and lowering himself to her level.

"Well, I dunno 'bout anyone else, Mrs Frobisher, but I'll miss yer. I'm sorry fer the assumptions I made of yer, and – " he broke off as Cecilia shook her head.

"It's OK," she replied softly before gasping as Hagrid hugged, squeezing her so tightly that Cecilia was sure she would suffocate and when he finally let her go her face felt face felt so hot that she was sure that she was the same colour as her dress.

"And 'e's meetin' yer here?" Cecilia nodded, as the spring breeze, bringing the fragrance of early flowers with it, blew her hair around and she chided herself for choosing to wear it down.

"It's a shame I never got to go down to the Forbidden Forest," Cecilia commented as another gusty breeze flitted around, "that's where my car ended up when I came back after Christmas with Severus."

"Ar, down with the spiders," replied Hagrid, knowingly. "I seen it; Aragog's family were usin' it for an 'ouse, I'm afraid, Mrs Frobisher," he added and looked surprised when Cecilia laughed lightly for a moment at the irony.

"I fer one am glad yer never made it; otherwise I might 'ave 'ad a bit of explainin' ter do to Dumbledore if the Centaurs had got to yer first and yer'd been killed – at least it'll be a bit quieter without 'avin ter follow yer everywhere an' keep yer safe…"

Cecilia wheeled round in astonishment as the school clock tolled once in the distance. Dumbledore had asked Hagrid to follow her? He nodded guiltily at her.

"…even onto the muggle trains…only you gave me the slip in Sheffield…couldn't keep up with yer when you went hike-hitchin'…"

And to his astonishment, Cecilia began to laugh, louder and harder than before. To think…Hagrid…following her by train…looking out for her all these months…

"Well, I've got to get on," said Hagrid, smiling at Cecilia and turning towards the stone archway. "Best o' luck," he added, raising a hand and waving in her direction. "Bye, Mrs Frobisher."

Cecilia watched Hagrid stride away towards the archway and, as he passed through it a spring breeze flitted past her, tousling her hair again and a feeling of anxiety replaced the mirth she had just been experiencing.

Now as she stood there, alone with her belongings Cecilia realised that it was past one o'clock. And she had a strange feeling that she was being watched…

...above, from the window of the Gryffindor tower the students, past and present, peered down, watching Cecilia fold her arms against her dress as a brief chill breeze whipped past her once more.

"He'll be here in a while," Hermione heard herself say, glancing at Ginny, who was biting her lip in anticipation and the twins and Ron, who were staring down avidly.

Behind her Mr and Mrs Weasley looked over her shoulder before exchanging a look of uncertainty and behind them stood the rest of the Order, silently still.

"Yes, he'll be there," said Harry, reassuringly, touching Hermione on the shoulder, before registering one of them turning and dashing towards the portrait-hole. "Hey Sirius," he called, "where are you going…?"

…Cecilia looked around her for the dozenth time, her eyes resting on the gate that led down towards the Owlery that they had spoke about passing on their way to Dovetown.

A few more minutes, Cecilia told herself, folding her arms and trying not to let the demon of worry take up residence in her mind. It was only ten past one; he'd be here in a few minutes…

…and past the Owlery, they would take the lake path around the castle onto the main track that led out onto the moor. The walk to Dovetown, which would only take them a few minutes, was far shorter than the one to Hogsmeade and in this weather it would be glorious….

"…he's not coming!" exclaimed Ginny aloud, turning crestfallen to look at her mother, "he'd be on time otherwise, wouldn't he…?"

….at the same time as Ginny spoke, Cecilia picked up her small handbag that she had put next to her other belongings and reached down to take the handle of her suitcase…

"…you might be right," said Hermione softly…

…now her small bag before seizing the box of lab equipment by the string…which Cecilia felt leave her hand…

"You're going without me?" Remus, his pale eyes shimmering in the sunlight smiled softly at Cecilia as she spun round in surprise. Dropping her things, she threw her arms around the surprised wizard's neck, kissing him firmly on the lips, oblivious of the round of applause that was coming from Gryffindor tower.

When she broke off, he kissed Cecilia lightly on the nose before flicking his wand over her belongings, disapparating them. Cecilia smiled, saying nothing, before taking his outstretched hand.

From their position, sprinting over through the archway, Harry and Ron watched them walk over the grass towards the gate and they upped their pace to catch them up. When they realised that they were following, Cecilia and Remus stopped, smiling as they neared.

"Thank you, Harry," said Cecilia, smiling at him kindly when they caught up with them. "I've never seen a child be so brave." Harry opened his mouth to say something, but instead turned and grinned at Ron.

"We just wanted to say that we couldn't imagine our favourite teacher being with anyone else, Mrs Frobisher," he added, grinning at Remus.

"Why, thank you," said Remus, returning the smile, "and I do appreciate your thinking that I am your favourite teacher…" He stopped when Ron and Harry exchanged glances.

"No," said Ron, beginning to glow red. "We meant Mrs Frobisher."

Before any of them knew what to say, Cecilia looked past the boys at another figure, also approaching at speed. As Sirius neared, Cecilia felt a nervous twinge in her stomach. Apart from the one brief visit in the hospital, she had not seen Sirius Black since the Shrieking Shack.

Yes, she concluded hastily. It was the fact that he had the results of her near suicide…that she was feeling uneasy and embarrassed.

"I couldn't let you leave without apologising profusely for my actions," began Sirius, looking at Cecilia intently and pushing between Ron and Harry. "It was Harry who showed me the error of my ways, and my friend – " Sirius looked at Remus, smiling at him.

" – Moony. I am so happy," he stuck out his hand, waiting for Remus to take it and then shaking it firmly before looking at Cecilia.

"You look beautiful," he added, leaning towards her and kissing her firmly on the lips.

"None of that now," warned Remus jovially, and Sirius broke off, "I know where that can lead." Cecilia began to blush as she glanced at Sirius, noticing Ron and Harry exchange looks. He still had it, she thought before looking back at Remus, but he's not mine...

"…especially…" Remus paused, looking back at Cecilia before bending a knee. She felt her mouth fall open as he took her hand, stroking the back of it tenderly.

"…if she consents to be my wife…"

Together, the three onlookers gasped in surprise. None of them could believe what they were witnessing, none more so than Cecilia herself. She continued to look at Remus, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

"Yes," she said softly, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. "Yes, Remus, I will marry you."

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Sirius, Harry and Ron strolled slowly back across the lawn once the East gate had closed behind the couple, past the ornamental fountain and towards the archway that led into the courtyard.

"Bad luck," said Harry as Sirius glanced back towards the gate. He noticed Harry wink at Ron and began to take an interest in the weather.

"Warm, isn't it, for so early in March," he replied, noticing a smile form across his godson's face. "Sorry, what? Cecilia?" He looked at Harry in confusion, shaking his head. "She wasn't my type anyway," added Sirius quickly.

Harry said nothing as Sirius strode ahead; he knew his godfather slightly better than Sirius suspected and he and Ron hurried to catch up with him and they strolled over the cobbles of the courtyard.

"I suppose you are free now, and clear of all charges?" Harry added as Sirius opened the main door of the castle.

"Hm?" He smiled at Harry softly. "Oh yes. Yes, I am. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some Order work to continue with…"

Harry turned to look at Ron as Sirius made his way towards the Great Hall, noticing his friend's downcast expression.

"Bad luck, Ron," said Harry sympathetically as they made their way up the staircase and along the first floor towards Gryffindor tower. "I think she's Moony's well and truly."

"It doesn't matter," replied Ron as a group of students, past and present, stepped through the gap of the Fat Lady's portrait. "As it turns out she wasn't my type either," he added, catching Hermione's eye as they neared them.

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	26. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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The news spread rapidly. It began with Ron and Harry, belting their way up the steps towards the Gryffindor common room past Hermione as questioned them about Cecilia and Remus's departure, scurrying after them when they said nothing and chasing them into the boys' dormitory…

"…you'll never guess…"

Then, Hermione spoke to Professor McGonagall, who was waiting for her to return from the common room, an appointment booked so long ago that the old witch believed that the girl may have forgotten. As she outlined extension work for Hermione before dismissing her almost an hour later she added…

"…Remus proposed to Cecilia…"

…which was overheard by Ginny Weasley who had been passing by McGonagall's office on the ground floor and heard Hermione's words float through the part-opened door like butterflies on a summers' day...

Who then headed directly to an empty classroom and seized a piece of parchment and a quill, dashing off a letter furiously to her mother before racing single-mindedly to the Owlery…

And upon receiving the owl from her daughter no less than three hours' later floo'd her husband and demanded that Tonks be brought to his fireplace…

"…What?" asked the witch, her hair blending between three different shades of blue. "No! I can't believe it…"

"…Ginny just Owled me…"

"…well, good for them..."

And, later that afternoon, when she appeared in the fire before Dumbledore and Snape with an urgent message concerning the whereabouts of the last missing Death Eaters imparted the information as causally as she could into the conversation.

"What did she say?" asked Dumbledore, smiling serenely.

"She said yes, " grinned back Tonks. "Which is great, don't you think?" In the green flames her head nodded fervently, showing her approval.

"I certainly do. Well, this is a cause for celebration," he continued, glancing at Snape and noting the slight crease furrow further into his brow. "Though they're both going to need all the luck they can get. Now, you said the message was urgent, Nymphadora." He ignored her automatic wince and continued to stare at her patiently in the potions classroom fireplace.

"…you should find everything you need in the Owl that's coming your way. Sufficed to say that we have rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not as powerless as we suspected. Fitzgerald confessed all to us just before he died in custody, including his whereabouts…" She smiled hopefully and Dumbledore nodded.

"I shall await your report then," concluded the headmaster and he watched her head fade from the fireplace.

"Well it would appear that your insistence on continuing with the research has paid off, Severus," continued Dumbledore, turning slowly and gazing at his potions teacher who was using his spare time to activities that were profitable to the Order of the Phoenix.

"Indeed," replied Snape, not looking up from his flask, checking the fill level and volume.

"And you have come to some further conclusions, I understand?" Dumbledore paced around the cauldron, watching a small wisp of smoke meander away from the rim before glancing over at the wallet of neatly labelled hair samples.

"Indeed, Headmaster," replied Severus, glancing down at the hair. "And Mrs Frobisher's fastidiousness in her method of working has allowed me to arrive at this outcome, as you can see – " he gestured towards the wallet as he continued to stir the contents of the cauldron.

"Really, I do not believe you could have found a more organised…a more dedicated muggle than the one you sent to work with me." He continued to stare into the cauldron; the vapour from the opaque purple liquid continuing to rise before glancing at Dumbledore. Then he glanced down at the samples again before moving a couple of objects on the already well-laden table, selecting a DNA trace from an envelope that lay open underneath them. Dumbledore watched as he took the trace to a clear part of the table before holding up a strand of pure white hair.

"She appeared intelligent enough Headmaster," he continued, looking back at Dumbledore, "but her plans were ill thought out…deadly, one could describe them…" Snape trailed off and looked past Dumbledore and at the window of the potions classroom. Dumbledore turned and followed his stare before moving towards the owl that was beginning to clamour to make itself heard outside.

Taking the letter it was carrying before tickling it affectionately on the top of its head, Dumbledore closed the window and paced back towards Snape, scrutinising its contents. Snape put down the trace and watched Dumbledore carefully.

"My, my…this is interesting." He looked at Snape, and smiled. "So it would seem my effort is about to begin again in order to find you a muggle research partner, if Mrs Frobisher is unsuitable, Severus."

"What?" Snape looked unmoved in Dumbledore's direction. "Excuse me, headmaster. I am not sure what you mean."

"Your work is now complete, I am given to understand." Dumbledore looked at Snape, enquiringly and Snape nodded in confirmation.

"It is. The power in wizard blood is the key as Mrs Frobisher described. And I believe that our working relationship more than makes up for any inadequacies she may possess," he added quickly. "That is to say, we would gain very little if you were to seek another muggle who does not understand this as she does."

A fraction of a second passed between Dumbledore and Snape before the headmaster folded the letter he had just received and nodded his head lightly.

"Then it looks like you are back in business, Severus. This time he will be stronger, have no doubt about it. He will have recalled his followers and he knows what weapons we do possess." Dumbledore approached the table and looked at the contents of the cauldron that Snape was beginning to stir again.

"How likely is it that he will attempt to harness muggle power for his own Severus, as you described to me?"

"We cannot afford to rule it out headmaster," Snape replied, glancing at Dumbledore again. "He has spoken of it before however he lacks the necessary aptitude to extract the relevant understanding. At present."

Dumbledore nodded before looking from the potion to the DNA trace that was labelled "Petunia Dursley DNA", picking it up. Then he glanced over the others in the collection, considering them thoughtfully before returning his gaze to Snape.

"In that case what I will require from you both, as I assume you are happy to work with Mrs Frobisher once more – " Snape nodded, " – is for you to accumulate, sort and categorise the information gathered by the Order both from accounts of happenings during the battle and subsequent information so that we can use it in his pursuit. In addition to this to work on further potions that should enable our advantage in any future encounters with the enemy with the understanding we have about the Universal link. The work must be done swiftly Severus, to give us the best possible chance of victory."

"Would you like me to contact Lupin and hasten her return? Due to the urgency you stress?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape and a couple of unspoken words passed between them.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head, smiling a little. "I think they deserve a couple of days together Severus, after all..." he put down the trace in his hand and glanced down at the wallet of hair samples, reading their labels, " – they'll have enough difficulties of their own to overcome now."

"Very well," replied Snape as Dumbledore made his way towards the door, and he nodded towards Dumbledore as he left.

Work with Cecilia Frobisher indeed, thought Snape as he picked up the white hair strand again and the DNA trace, holding them up towards the light that cascaded through the stained glass of the potions classroom what a preposterous notion. Precisely how could he work with a muggle? It was totally out of the question!

"Oh Severus." Dumbledore was standing at the door of the classroom again, looking in his direction and smiling serenely. "If you would be so good as to prepare some more potion that was prepared for Harry, both base and match, I would be most obliged. As quickly as possible, please."

"You are still required at the ministry?" Dumbledore nodded.

"Certainly, headmaster." He continued to stare at Dumbledore, who acknowledged him with another small smile.

"Was there something else, Severus? Something on your mind, perhaps?"

"She should return immediately, headmaster, if we are to complete this work." Dumbledore stepped back inside the potions classroom and closed the door.

"Indeed, and to us it would seem wise to suggest it however we rushed her before, with near-catastrophic results. No. She is better off out if it for the time being for what is to come will test the very strength of even the strongest of us, Severus..."

Snape nodded before looking down, and focused on the DNA trace as Dumbledore left the classroom once more.

Though not to depart to his office, nor to anywhere in the school at the present time. Through the open door Dumbledore watched Snape hold up the DNA trace to the light, scanning the bands carefully and raising his eyebrows.

"My my, Mrs Frobisher," Snape muttered to the trace, shaking his head in realisation, "you were not careful enough...or indeed…perhaps you were too careful?"

Then the headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry watched as his potions teacher, ex-Death Eater and exceptionally gifted wizard selected another trace and held it in front of the other up to the light.

And, as the spring sunlight irradiated the potions classroom as he compared the trace of Petunia Dursley with Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape smiled.

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End file.
